


Heist

by Shell_LA



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: M/M, Shevine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3394760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shell_LA/pseuds/Shell_LA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam thinks he knows what it means to be a thief. Then Blake steals his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragon_rider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider/gifts).



> I promise I'm updating Siren soon, but my brain is weird and I had to get this out before I could keep writing that one. 
> 
> To my favorite dragon, I hope you like this! *hides*

The safety of the gun clicked.

“Don’t move.”

Adam froze where he was, but his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. He kept his hand raised to the safe’s lock though, because he recognized that voice. He knew that the person holding the gun wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if he moved a single muscle. 

“Why do we always end up like this, detective?” Adam said casually, his eyes steadily staring at his equipment attached to the wall. When he yanked it off in a minute or two it would damage the paint, but he didn’t much care. An expensive condo like this one no doubt had residents that could afford to repair it. 

“Because you never know when to leave well enough alone.” There was some shuffling behind him. “Are you armed?”

Adam couldn’t help his grin. “What do you think?”

“Don’t get cute with me,” The detective snarled. “I am sick of trying to track your ass all over this city. I am going to bring you in, and you’re going to come quietly, but first you are going to tell me if you. are. armed.”

“I’m hurt, Shelton,” Adam quipped, shifting. “I thought you enjoyed these little dates as much as I do. Are you saying you don’t like me?”

Adam heard a growl behind him. “If you don’t disarm I won’t have any problem explaining to the captain why I shot you in the ass, you little punk.”

“Well…” Adam hummed, stalling for time. He’d only have one shot at this, and he needed his hands to not be shaking when he tried it. “I guess if you count my usual accessories then maybe I’ve got some on me. One has to keep up with the trends, Detective, or risk being unfashionable.” He inclined his head ever so slightly towards his go bag, which was propped against the wall by his left boot. “You’ll find my weapons in there.”

Blake stepped forward. Paused. “Any on your person?”

Adam’s smile showed teeth, and he was happy that his back was turned because it would’ve given what he was about to do away. He turned swiftly on his heel and snatched one of the pods from his wrist canister. 

“DON’T-!!” is about all the detective could get out before the room was filled with thick, acrid smoke. Adam heard him coughing harshly, but he didn’t feel bad. The smoke wasn’t toxic after all. He snatched his decrypter off the front of the safe and shoved it into his black duffle. He pulled a small glass-hammer out of his pocket and made for the huge wall of windows in the penthouse suite at a dead run. 

He shattered one of the windows with a hard swing of the hammer in one gloved hand, keeping his head down, eyes closed, and right shoulder hunched to block any shards from cutting him up more than necessary. Adam took a deep, gasping breath of fresh air and savored the wind through his hair as he fell. With a mid air twist, he pulled his safety cords from his belt, calculating velocity and distance. 

“Whooohoo!” He howled, grinning like a madman as he fired the cord gun. Once it made contact with the side of the building he began tempering his fall-speed with the controls on the gun. He held tight and braced for the impact- he saw his reflection in the windows of the skyscraper before he bounced against it. A few bumps and he managed to brace his feet against the building. He was standing sideways against the window, and with a quick breath he let his feet down again so they dangled beneath him. 

He glanced down, the vertigo giving him a heady rush of adrenaline. Adam gently released his hold on the trigger and he began to descend rapidly. 32 stories later and his feet were solidly on the sidewalk of downtown LA. He stooped, grabbing his knife from his boot, and he slashed the cord from the gun. Adam stowed both the gun and knife in his duffel, yanked off his ski mask and then he began to walk briskly down the street.

His ride wasn’t more than two blocks away, which was good because he could hear screaming sirens, obviously some back up on its way to assist Detective Shelton. Christ, that dude was really putting a cramp in his work schedule. It was good he’d saved up a lot, otherwise he might’ve spent the next few weeks going hungry. 

He came up on the old maroon sedan and flung himself into the passenger seat. 

“Did you get it?” Jesse asked eagerly, flipping the car into drive and making his way to the 405. When Adam shook his head silently, his face fell. 

“Shelton?” Jesse bleated. “Again?”

Frowning, Adam nodded. “That guy really has it out for me. It’s like he has a grudge against art thieves or something.”

“Well it is his job, man. My main question is why is he all up in our business now? We’ve been pulling jobs in LA for years and no one’s ever noticed.”

Adam scratched a hand through his hair, watching the downtown Los Angeles nightlife flit by the car window. “He’s only just been transferred here. From Oklahoma, if the police registrar is to be believed. I think he spells big trouble for us, man. We might have to move shop.”

Jesse snorted. “You had PJ hack the precinct huh? Typical.” Then the thief’s words caught up to him. “Wait- leave LA?” He asked incredulously. “We can’t! This is our home, we’ve never had any competition here!”

Adam shrugged sadly. “Competition isn’t our problem. Competent law enforcement is. Now that the city has gotten their hands on some… I can’t see how we’ll be able to keep pulling steady work.”

The car was filled with an uneasy silence all the way home. Jesse drove through traffic, which eventually gave way to the hills of West LA. After a quick stop at their rented storage unit to switch cars they pulled into the gate of their Los Feliz home and Adam trudged up to the front door. He braced for a blow out- the rest of his crew was not going to be happy about this. 

A chorus of voices greeted Jesse and Adam, and Adam winced at the sound. Matt and PJ were playing video games in the living room and Mickey was reading in the kitchen nook. He looked up from his book. “Did you get it?” He asked in his quiet, serious voice.

Adam shook his head again, embarrassment stealing over him at the silence that greeted his admission of ineptitude. They all believed him to be the best art thief on the west coast, and for the last 10 years he’d thought that too. 

What with the crews varied skills in their respective fields of illegality, they’d been able to maintain a more than generous standard of living for the past decade. When they’d been fresh out of high school, barely scraping by with enough credits to graduate, the group hadn’t known what to do with themselves. 

After trying a few things, Adam met a guy named James who’d just recently moved to the city. He’d welcomed him into their flatshare with open arms and it had paid off because James had turned out to be one of the best con men in the country. He’d taught the boys everything he knew. More importantly he’d given them connections. 

James had hooked each of them up with friends of his who specialized in the guys’ diverse interests, and for about a year they all spent time training across the country. 

LA being what it was, Jesse had found something he liked right in their hometown. He spent that first year honing his skills with cars, turning into a vehicle specialist and a master at planning routes and getaways. Transport was his bread and butter.

Matt was sent off to some of James’ friends in Nebraska for 6 months and came back a weapons expert. He was able to procure what they needed for defense and taught the boys what they needed to know, taking them to shooting ranges to brush up on their aim. From all of their globetrotting in the coming years he’d also become a handy linguist. Matt had the innate ability to pick up local dialects, and now he was fluent in 6 languages.

A few years of steady practice had shown James that Adam had a natural talent for heists and con work- his quick words, wit and looks made him the perfect candidate for more difficult, risky jobs. When they were 22 he’d orchestrated a joint job with another crew in San Francisco, which changed Adam’s life forever. 

James introduced him to an art thief who took a liking to Adam. Behati was young, exotic, and very skilled in the art of stealing priceless items from wealthy old men. She’d showed him all her tricks and took him under her wing for 8 months in the city, and his training concluded after they robbed the Museum of Modern Art. 

Adam would always remember that night- taking shots with Bee at some luxe rooftop bar while a priceless painting was rolled in a protective canister under their table. When he finally returned to Los Angeles he was the real deal- a world-class art thief. 

They’d picked up PJ in Dubai off a rival thief who’d blackmailed him into stealing things. Adam had snagged both the painting they were after and PJ, yanking him out of his hideout and offering him a free ride back to the states. He’d gladly accepted, and after a long flight of getting to know the boys he’d decided to stick around. 

Mickey had taken to archiving like almost nothing else. He found pieces that were being shown in galleries, being moved from place to place, or were recently sold to private collectors. His taste was impeccable, which always ensured they got the best prices for whatever they sold. When Adam brought home the merchandise, he also served as their fence: making deals with the seriousness and mental acuity needed in order to get top dollar. 

Now though, Adam didn’t know how much good their skills would be in the face of a bloodthirsty detective. Shelton was gunning for him. 

“I don’t know what we’re gonna do guys,” Adam sighed, flopping down onto the couch and starting to undo the holsters and braces that were buckled all around his tight black bodysuit. His eye charcoal, used to black out his exposed skin under the mask, was smeared slightly underneath his eyes making him look a little bit like a raccoon. 

“I almost didn’t get away this time. I had to use my emergency route.” Adam said quietly. He felt the stares of his friends, felt their shock. He hadn’t needed to do that since London in 2009. 

PJ spoke up. “I can do a background check on him, look a little more than I did the other day. Maybe if I can dig something up we can blackmail him into backing off.”

“You think that’ll work?” James asked.

Adam shrugged. “Maybe… but I have a feeling that this dude would rather shoot himself than go off the straight and narrow. He seems squeaky clean to me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “He also seems to REALLY want to take me in, guys…”

He didn’t say it out loud, but his friends got it. Adam was scared. Running from the cops was normal on any job, but having one set their sites on you specifically, especially in your hometown, was enough to leave any crook rattled. 

“So what then?” Mickey asked, thumbing a corner of the page he was reading and setting the book aside. “Can we still move on with our plans for March? I’ve been doing prep work for weeks…” His voice was earnest. Adam got the feeling that their next target mattered to Mickey. 

“We shouldn’t.” Matt said at once. “It’s too risky.”

Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know. We kinda have an advantage. This guy probably thinks Adam works alone… most cat burglars do, after all. With all of us working together, we might be able to stay a few steps ahead of him.”

“Yeah,” James grinned. “And what is this crew if not a bunch of dumbass risk-takers? It’s what made me like you all in the first place, and it’s how we’ve made it this long in the game. No sense in changing that now.”

“Ultimately the call is Adam’s.” Mickey said, staring at him intently. “If this doesn’t work out, it’ll be you getting arrested.”

Adam hedged for a moment, then threw his hands in the air. “Yeah. What the hell. We need a score anyway, I’m sick of not being able to bring home the bacon.” Adam smiled through his uneasiness. “Let’s keep going as planned. We’ll do the job in March and investigate Detective Shelton in the mean time, see if we can’t get him off our scent. If we can’t… this may be our last job in LA guys.”

The air was heavy with worry and sadness at the thought, and Adam prayed that after tonight’s fiasco Shelton would just give up on finding out who he was.  
…

“I want security footage!” Blake yelled as he stormed through the precinct. “I want it right now!” 

The fluorescent lighting of the department only lit his probationary agents’ pale, panicked features more starkly as he walked up to Detective Shelton. “Here,” Luke said ruefully, handing over the jump drive. “I’ve already reviewed it, but it doesn’t hold much. Looks like they washed the security cameras in the area. You see him mid fall, around the 20th story of the building, but that’s about all you get.” 

Luke shook his head in wonder. “Did he really break the window and just throw himself out?” He tried to keep the awe out of his voice, but if the frown on Blake’s face was any indication, he’d failed. 

“Yes, he did.” Blake groused. “Like he thinks he’s in a goddamn movie or something. It’s ridiculous that ya’ll have a cat burglar in this town, you do know that right? That isn’t supposed to be a thing that police have to deal with anymore.”

Luke shrugged. “Until you got here, sir, we hadn’t known that’s what was happening.”

Blake only shook his head tiredly, cursing his career choices. Born and bred in Oklahoma, he’d pursued a career in law enforcement after watching one too many cop shows. After enrolling at the academy and getting top marks, he’d applied for special operations training and was sent off to the San Antonio field office of the FBI. There he’d learned everything there was to know about specialized crime and profiling- he’d been just as surprised as his superiors that he had a real knack for the work. 

“Dunno how, Shelton,” His preceptor had said from behind his desk when a 24-year-old Blake fidgeted in front of him. “But you’re the best of the bunch. I’m sendin’ you off to get some practical work. In New York.”

Blake had stammered, stuttered his way through his thanks. The next five years he was the “cowboy cop” to all the local police, but the term quickly became affectionate when he managed to help wrangle a record number of thieves and con men in the big apple. 

Catching on to the talent right under their noses, the higher ups sent Blake all over the country to catch criminals when the locals officials were stumped. Of course, Blake was proud of his accomplishments, happy to have a steadily ascending career path, but eventually he grew tired of living out of a suitcase.

He’d put in for a transfer back to his tiny little town in Oklahoma. His family had been happy to have him back, and he was content to be just another cop in Ada. It didn’t last long. 

“You need to go.” Carson had said over the phone. “I know you wanted some time off, but I’m your operations officer, and I’m telling you. They need your help down there.” 

“But it’s only been 6 months,” He remembered saying stubbornly. “I fucking hate that city. I’m not going.”

Carson’s silence over the phone had been unimpressed, and so a few days later he’d found himself moving to Los Angeles of all places. He hated it there, more than he could ever say. It was a gritty place, full of crime and excess- everything that Blake disdained of. 

But when he’d walked into the first crime scene all that had faded away. This thief was good. This thief was brilliant. And this thief had been benefitting from a bumbling police department who hadn’t noticed that all the crime reports relating to stolen art had similar MOs. 

Blake shook his head, fingers clasping the USB in hand and heading to his office to review the footage himself on his computer. Even with this, he couldn’t trust that Luke hadn’t missed something. 

Blake watched the grainy video, replaying the dark blur of a man who fell across the screen about two minutes in. He watched it over and over again and he remembered the snarky words that had been thrown at him tonight. 

This guy was a cocky son of a bitch. With each crime that he’d reviewed, Blake had been able to learn a little more about the thief, his targets and the things he left at the scene were little clues into the guys psyche. Tonight had been a product of extensive profiling and a little luck. He’d made a guess as to what the criminal might go for next, and sure enough he’d shown up. 

Even though tonight had been a catastrophe, even though having the crook slip through his fingers was maddening, Blake wasn’t too upset. He was in the guys’ head now. He had him figured out. 

“Try for one more…” Blake murmured to himself as he stared at the screen. “One more you greedy little shit. One more and I’ll getchya for sure.”

The detective is startled by a sharp knock on his office door. “What?” He barks, minimizing the video screen. 

Luke pokes his head in, looking excited. “Boss, I think we have a lead. It was just sent in by some of our scouters. We have footage of two individuals swapping cars in West Hollywood. One of them is wearing all black. Had a large black bag. Looks like he’s wearing arm braces.” 

“Any ID? Facial recognition?”

Luke shakes his head. “No. It was dark, they kept to the shadows- still, it’s something right?”

Blake grins. “Yeah. It’s something.”  
…

Blake strolled through West Hollywood, feeling like a fish out of water. This was definitely one of the nicer parts of LA, and since he was always working he’d never had much cause to wander over here. Usually he was called to downtown areas or private homes in the hills- the bustling main streets of the nicer neighborhoods wasn’t where art thefts typically happened. 

Blake relished the sun on his face as he walked down the avenue. High-end boutiques and restaurants were plentiful, and a farmer’s market was in full swing down the street. This was a happy place, Blake thought, and trying to find two suspects or their usual haunts would not be easy. The crooks he was chasing were smart, and if they were hiding out in WeHo then they’d been in the game long enough to get very very good at it and make lots of money. He was dealing with pros. 

Blake shoved his hands in his pockets and he turned down a side street. He was just here to scope out the area, get a feel for it, and hell. He was off the clock anyhow. The detective shook his head ruefully- he could hear his mom’s voice in his head, nagging at him over not having a life, how he shouldn’t be working on his day off. Blake slid his sunglasses up off his face, deciding to enjoy at least part of his afternoon. He was coming up on a cozy looking coffee shop and contemplated grabbing a cup. He approached the glass windows and stopped short, his breath catching. 

A man was sitting hunched over a laptop inside the coffee shop, one hand clicking on the mouse pad and the other curled around a mug of steaming coffee. He was beautiful. That was the first thought that came to mind. Blake couldn’t help letting his eyes rove over deliciously tousled hair, bright eyes, and a black tee shirt nestled snugly against the man’s whittled waist. 

“Ohh man…” Blake hummed quietly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been struck by a stranger. He hadn’t dated in a long time. He was usually too busy to keep up a relationship, and he’d been moving around too much. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he rationalized. There was no harm in giving it a shot…

Biting his lip, Blake tugged open the door and entered the shop.  
…

Adam adjusted the brightness of his laptop screen, squinting at the PDF he’d downloaded. The café off Melrose was buzzing with people, but he didn’t much notice. He was here for the free Wifi more than anything- that accompanied with the burner computer would ensure that his little adventure through the city’s permit archives would stay anonymous. Sure, the information was free access to everyone, but if he went down to city hall to scroll through he’d have to sign in. That didn’t factor very well into Adam plans. 

The home of Jason Briggs, music mogul extraordinaire, had gone through a series of security upgrades in the past few years. Adam took a drag of his coffee as he flipped through the scanned floor plans- the remodeling had been extensive, and would prove to be a challenge for his crew, but if the rumors Mickey had caught on to were true, it would be very much worth it. The word was that Mr. Briggs had acquired a Turner, which were experiencing a surge in popularity at the moment. 

As Mickey had told the rest of them yesterday about the painting the excitement had filtered into his usually calm tone. The fence always scoped out jobs and picked what items Adam should go for, which ones would get the highest price, but this time it was different. Adam had a feeling that Mickey might try to keep this one.

Smiling at the thought, he startled violently when a finger tapped his shoulder. Adam whipped his head around, and his heart flew into his throat as he saw who it was.

Detective Blake Shelton staring down at him.

Fingers tingling, he resisted the urge to slam the lid of the laptop shut, instead smiling politely. His first instinct was to play it cool. It took a second for his voice to start working. “…Hi?”

“Um, hi,” To Adam’s astonishment, the detective blushing a little. What the hell. “I’m sorry, I don’t usually do this, but uhh, I was wondering if I could join you? I would’ve offered to buy you a coffee but you already have one so I bought a few muffins.”

Adam stared, now noticing the two pastries held in his hands. 

“If you don’t want one, I can just eat both.” Blake grinned sheepishly. “I don’t mind, I’m easy like that.”

Adam’s panic ebbed. Shelton didn’t know who he was. He had bought Adam a muffin. Detective Shelton was hitting on him with muffins not even 72 hours after making Adam jump out of a skyscraper in order to flee a crime scene. 

What were the odds? Why was this his life? Still trying to process, he schooled his deer-in-the-headlights expression and slapped a warm, enticing smile on his face. “Sure, have a seat.”

Blake’s eyes brightened at the invitation, and when he sat across from Adam the thief plucked one muffin out of his hands playfully. “You know the way to a man’s heart.” Adam said, chuckling. “Muffins will get you almost anywhere.”

The detective’s ears were turning red, and wasn’t that just adorable. Adam’s mind was whirring with possibilities, but he leaned in, letting his head rest on an open palm. 

“So are ya remodeling or something?” The detective asked, throwing Adam for a loop. 

“Huh?”

“Oh, sorry, but when I walked over I couldn’t help noticing your floor plans.” His tone was apologetic. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy, I just notice stuff like that sometimes, force of habit.”

I bet you do, you observant bastard, Adam thought. Out loud he said, “No big deal. I’ve been thinking about it. My friend just redid his house and he sent me his old plans to look over. See if all the trouble is worth it to me.” The lie rolls easily off his tongue. Adam closes his laptop and stows it in his bag, showing the older man he was paying attention to him whilst also hiding the incriminating files from view. 

“Remodeling is a pain. Can take a long time, I’ve heard.” Blake hummed. “Gonna get any lip for that with a girlfriend or anything?”

Adam laughed at the blatant question. “Nope. I’m single, though I do have roommates. Not much for subtlety are you, cowboy?”

“Cowboy?”

The detective raised his eyebrows at the nickname, and Adam felt a little tremor of uncertainty. “Er, sorry. Just, your accent man. Kinda hard to miss.”

Blake relaxed. “Oh, yep. Guess it’s out of the bag. I’m not a local.”

Adam laughed despite himself. “I’m Adam.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Adam.” The older man said smiling, and Christ, he had dimples- Adam had never had a chance to notice, given that their usual interactions had Blake scowling. “I’m Blake.”

They started talking, going through the obligatory get-to-know-you conversation and slipping into deeper discussion, about their interests and hobbies. To stay safe, Adam had peppered his words with a healthy dose of lies, but despite this the conversation came easily- before he knew it, an hour had passed.

This sheepish, charming man was so different than the brusque, yelling Shelton that chased him around the city at night, waving his gun around. All that cold, angry fire in his blue eyes was simmered down in the day light, sparking with warmth and humor. It was just a little bit mesmerizing. 

He blinked rapidly; shaking himself back to reality- he was still talking to a detective, even if he was a cute, funny one. He couldn’t go down that road. But what he could do was keep tabs. Adam ran a hand over the back of his neck, letting his fingers trail down to the collar of his own shirt in an “absent-minded” gesture. 

It worked like a charm: Blake’s eyes were zeroed in on Adam’s exposed skin, and the thief could see his eyes dilating slightly. He smiled. This would be simple, because if there was one thing James had taught all of them it was to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. 

“Listen.” Adam says in a low, slightly breathy voice. “I have to go meet up with some friends right now, but I’d love it if I could have your number.”

Blake grins. “Sure, I’d love to call ya.”

They swap phones for a moment, and then Adam makes a show of being reluctant to leave. He throws a small wave Shelton’s way, pleased with the enthusiasm with which the gesture is returned. 

He waits until two blocks away to call. 

“James.” He says, sliding his aviators over his eyes with a predatory grin. “You are not going to believe who’s number I just got.”  
…

“No way.”

“Yeah.”

“No FUCKIN way.”

“Yup.” Adam grinned at the guys’ shocked faces. James hadn’t believed him on the phone, but when he showed them Shelton’s number in his mobile back at the house, he was met with wide-eyed silence as he told them exactly how it went down.

“Sooo,” Jesse said, his fingers steepled against his mouth as he spoke. “Detective dude, the guy who is trying to run your dumbass into the ground, came into Café Rose.”

“Yeah.”

“And he asked you out.” 

Adam nodded, rolling his eyes. 

“And you gave him your number?”

“It’s one of the burner phones, I’ll just chuck it later if I have to.” Adam shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? Say no?”

“Yes, Adam!” Mickey yelled. “That’s exactly what you do when a fucking cop asks you out and your day job is crime!”

“Well, technically he’s not a cop.” Adam mumbled, feeling petulant. “He’s a detective. And hello, why are you guys freaking out? This is a great way to stay ahead of him!”

PJ frowned. “Have you considered that this could be a trap? What if he already knows who you are?”

Adam shook his head. “Impossible. There’s no way.”

James shifted on the sofa. “I agree with Adam. I think we’ve been given an opportunity here. A crazy, improbable one, but yeah. We’d be idiots not to use this.”

Matt hung his head, exhaling loudly. “This is a horrible idea.”

Frustrated with their lack of faith, Adam whined. “Noooo it’s not! Guys. I can do this. How many times have I seduced a mark? This is no different, except it means I’ll be able to scope out the enemy.”

“And then what, Adam? What’s the end game here? How far would you be willing to take this?”

“What, man. You mean, would I fuck the guy?” Adam knew exactly what Mickey was getting at, and in the midst of his annoyance he didn’t shy from it. PJ was the only one who flinched at his crass words- the others were used to it. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Adam leaned back on the couch, his tone light and airy even though his stomach clenched at the thought. The detective was handsome to be sure, but he didn’t relish jobs where he had to force himself to get physical- it always left him feeling dirty and used. 

“Whoa, Adam. We’re getting way ahead of ourselves here.” James stepped in. “Just take it one step at a time- make friends with the guy. Scope him out. If it feels too weird, just bail.”

Adam nodded, but they were all thinking the same thing. Adam didn’t just bail, not on anything. He never half-assed things. If he was going in, it would be all or nothing. Clenching his phone in his hand, the thief swiped at the screen and started typing. 

…

Adam tried not to fidget as he waited for Blake to show up. After texting back and forth for a few days, Adam had decided it was appropriate timing to ask Blake out.

It was a simple enough date- they were meeting at the park. The thief’s heart was beating quickly with anxiety and he had to reassure himself that he had this in the bag. He’d done this countless times. It was easy, it was going to be so simple-

“Oh… my god.” Adam breathed. 

Detective Shelton was walking down the sidewalk. Except he didn’t look like his usual self. As Adam took in the sight of relaxed jeans, a breezy tee and the sexiest, shyest smile he’d ever seen he experienced something very much like an anvil being dropped on his head. 

The thief steeled himself with a breath and started walking to meet him half way. With a small whimper he noted tousled curls, wild in the breeze. He’d never seen the detective without product smoothing his hair. This was going to kill him. 

Blake was hot. Detective Shelton was HOT. 

“Hey,” Blake greeted him warmly. “It’s good to see you.”

Adam nodded, trying to collect his brain from wherever it had run off to. “Yeah. Good… real good.” 

Blake’s eyebrow quirked in amusement, and holy shit, the last of Adam’s professionalism went out the window. He couldn’t remember any of his usual material. Charming, seductive Adam had officially left the building. 

Blake chuckles. “Well it’s good to know I’m not the only one who couldn’t wait for today.” Blake’s honesty steals Adam’s breath away when he confesses in a sweet, quiet tone, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

Suddenly, this date didn’t feel like a con at all. The sincerity on Blake’s face hits him right in the chest, to where Adam can’t help but respond in kind. 

“Me either.” Adam says breathlessly, and wait- what? Adam NEVER said what was truly on his mind, even on real dates, dates where he wasn’t trying to pull the wool over his partner’s eyes. This was rapidly becoming very very real. 

Blake positively beams at his confession. “There’s this taco stand somewhere ‘round here. It’s a food truck, but honestly it’s the best Mexican I’ve come across so far. Are you game to try it?”

“Tacos?” Adam says brightly. “A man after my own heart.”

"I'm sensing a pattern here," The Southerner smiled. "You and food have an intense relationship, huh?" Blake laughs loudly; and Adam can’t help but join in. It’s an exuberant, infectious sound. It’s beautiful.

Adam was so fucked. 

…

Adam was grinning like an idiot when he shut the front door behind him later that night. His phone pings with a text and his heart lifts when he sees Blake’s name.

‘Is it weird I miss you already?’ It says, and the sweetness is giving Adam heart palpitations. He feels giddy as he starts to reply, but then the air in the room shifts. 

Adam looks up and is surprised to see all of the guys there, staring at him. “Uh…hi guys…?”

“Well?” Mickey asks anxiously.

Adam is at a loss. “Well what?”

Matt shakes his head, the look on his face inscrutable, but he doesn’t say anything. 

Jesse makes a noise of frustration. “How did it go with Detective dude? Did you get any good intel?”

Adam resists the inexplicable urge to correct Jesse, tell him that Blake does in fact have a name. Oh. Right. Adam scratches his neck self-consciously. “Er… no. It was way too early for that.”

His friends deflate a little in disappointment. If he was honest, he’d kind of forgotten he was supposed to be getting information out of Blake. All of his pre-prepared, masterfully worded questions had been forgotten when they’d sat down at the picnic tables by the food trailer park. 

The rest of the date had been perfect, and only Blake’s phone ringing with an urgent work assignment had pulled them away from one another. Even after he’d hugged Blake and watched him walk away, Adam had still struggled to get his mind back in the game. 

Only now when he was faced with his friends’ questions did he realize how bad he’d fucked up. The date had been a huge success in all the ways that didn’t matter, and a massive failure in all the ways it did. 

Anxious to reassure them, he blurts. “I’ll try again, guys. Don’t worry. It was only our first meet up.”

James smirks at him. “Well, at least give us the details. Did he try to lay one on you?”

Adam scrunches his nose up for show, the tension easing in his muscles as the gesture has the desired affect- his friends laugh at his “discomfort”. If only they knew… Adam had been hoping for a kiss, but Blake had been hesitant. The thief couldn’t wait to see him again. 

“Okay, ew-“ Adam bites out with a wave. “I’m leaving now.”

He trots upstairs to his room, already trying to think of something witty to text back to Blake.  
…

“Why are you all smiley, detective?” 

Blake’s grin morphed into a scowl. “No reason.” He said gruffly to Luke. 

“Bullshit,” Luke said. “I think you’ve got yourself a lady. You haven’t been your usual grumpy self all month.”

Blake didn’t bother correcting him. 

Blake knew it was true. He had been texting Adam all morning. Their date last night had been literally the best Blake had ever had. They’d roamed all over Venice Beach, just chatting and taking in the sights. When the sun had set, the pink hue on the horizon had lit Adam’s face to perfection- the man had wrapped himself around Blake as they stood ankle deep in the waves. 

When he’d kissed Adam, there had been a small taste of the sea spray surrounding them on his lips, but the musky flavors of coffee and cigarette smoke had still been there- it was everything he’d come to know and associate with Adam.

“Those things will kill you.” He’d murmured against Adam’s mouth as he twisted his fingers in the shorter man’s threadbare white tank top. “You should really quit with the smoking.”

“Why, Blake!” Adam had only grinned at him, all teeth and bright shining eyes. “Are you worried about me?”

“Oh shut up,” He’d laughed, savoring long fingers tucking his windswept curls behind his ear. “I just don’t want you puttin’ yourself in an early grave.”

“Don’t worry, babe.” Adam had crooned in his ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They slipped into kissing a little too easily for being in such a public place, and feeling drunk off of one another, they’d stumbled into a bar by the pier. Drinks, dirty jokes, and lots of laughter had ended their perfect Sunday, and Monday morning Blake was still high from it all.

“Yep,” Luke deadpanned, gazing at his boss from his desk. “You look like you just got hit by a bus. You’re definitely getting laid.”

Blake glared at the officer. “Where are we at with the case?”

Luke sighed. “No where. Our guy and his accomplice might live on the west side, but that’s still a massive area. We've been looking for weeks now. Blake, I don’t know how we’re supposed to narrow it down.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” Blake said, standing and pulling some files from a drawer. He spread them out on his desk, leaning over them. He pointed to one particular article. “I think we should check this out.”

Luke leaned in, squinting at the photo. “A turner? D’you think that’s his next hit?”

Blake nodded. “It’s just the type of thing he’d go for. It’s not common for one of those to make it’s way to the west coast… It’s popular enough to grab our guy’s attention.”

“How did you even know to look for this?” Luke asks, impressed by Blake’s resourcefulness. 

The detective shrugs. “You’ll learn this with experience, but part of being a good investigator is making connections in the social spheres you’re typically working in. I’m a friend of the head curator for the Dallas Museum of Art, Miranda Lambert. I asked her to keep an eye out for me, and she let me know a big piece was changing hands around here.”

“Huh. Smart.” Luke hums. “So, what do you have in mind?”

“I think we should contact the buyer. Do the whole intervention thing. We can piggy back on his security, do preemptive safety measures. If our thief comes knocking, we’ll already be there, waiting for him.”

Luke shrugged. “That’s a lot of resources and overtime… but it’s your ass on the line so I’m not gonna stop you.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Luke.” Blake said dryly. “It may be my ass, but the paperwork is your job. Get on it.”

Blake clapped him on the back as Luke cursed and he headed down to the lobby to grab a coffee.

He’d just paid for his drink when his phone pinged. 

‘I miss you. What are you working on, Inspector Gadget?’

Blake grinned.

‘Same old. I miss you too. We should have dinner tonight.’

Blake was adding cream to his brew and almost spilled it when he read Adam’s next text.

‘You read my mind baby. Take out sounds perfect. Let’s stay in tonight.’

He had an idea of what that meant. This whole month, he and Adam had been taking it slow. Their chemistry was explosive, but they’d held off the physical stuff. If Blake was reading the message right, it looked like Adam was ready to change that. 

Blake felt heat coil in his stomach at the thought. 

‘Sounds good.’ Blake texted back, trying not to get ahead of himself. The great thing, the fucking amazing thing if he was honest, was that hanging out with Adam these past four weeks felt like an effortless friendship. 

There was no pressure, no bullshit- Adam was all about having fun, and Blake was all for that after long, stressful workdays. If for some reason things didn’t work out romantically, Blake had the feeling that they’d still be able to hang out. 

For now though, Blake didn’t need to worry about any of that because their relationship was easy as breathing. He returned to his office, looking forward to tonight much more than he had five minutes ago.  
…

“YES!” Adam cries happily, flopping off the couch and running to Blake’s front door. 

Blake laughs, shaking his head at Adam’s antics as he takes the thai food from the courier and pays him enthusiastically. The smaller man brings the cartons into the living room, staring down at them adoringly. “Dude, this is perfect. I’ve been craving their peanut sauce for days. It’s literally heaven.”

“I’m excited to try it.” Blake says with a smile, making room for Adam to set their food down on the coffee table. They begin unwrapping everything, the movie still going strong on the TV in front of them.

“I’ve lost the plot,” Adam says around a mouthful of tofu, pointing his chopsticks at the screen in puzzlement. “Who’s the walking tree again?”

Blake shrugs, staring with an equal amount of bewilderment as a talking raccoon and green woman banter on the screen. “I think we missed a lot of important stuff,” He says, an amused smile sparkling in his eyes. “And it’s all your fault, I hope you know.”

Adam blushes to the roots of his hair, glaring over at Blake accusingly as he cradles his take out to his chest. 

“Hey. You helped.” He shot back, and yes, Blake supposed that was true. After they’d called in their order and started the film, Adam has slung himself into Blake’s lap, nozing his neck and biting his earlobe oh so gently before wrapping him up in a heart-poundingly hazy make out session. 

They’d been about to take things a little further when the doorbell rang for the food, which reminded Blake. Oh yeah. He looked down and rezipped his jeans quickly. Adam caught him and let out a loud laugh. 

Blake gazed over at him fondly, marveling again at just how lucky he was. Adam was funny, sexy, and genuinely interested in Blake’s life. He always made sure to ask after Blake’s family, his work, what he was up to. 

He was also really fucking handsome- it still amazed him that Adam was so into him if he thought about it long enough. When they were out, he’d see men and women alike follow Adam with their eyes, and who was he to judge them?

Adam was incredibly magnetic, it came so naturally to him it’s almost as if it was job or something. Blake laughed quietly to himself at the idea- Adam Levine: professional sexy person.

“What’s so funny?” Adam asked, taking a swig of his beer. 

Blake smiled. ”Nothin’.”

“Come on!” Adam whined, wanting to be in on the joke.

Blake sighed. “Alright, I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you is all. I really can’t believe it. These past weeks… things have been perfect.”

Blake saw a shadow pass over Adam’s expression for just a fraction of a second- if he hadn’t been looking at his boyfriend’s face so intently he would’ve missed it, but then his gaze softens with emotion.

A beat later, Adam’s eyebrows fly up. “Wait- that made you laugh?”

Blake chuckles. “Well… yeah. I mean, I must be pretty good if I can trick you into datin’ a goof like me.”

Adam rolls his eyes, setting aside his food. He crawls across the cushions into Blake’s space again, and takes Blake’s carton out of his hands. He sets it on the coffee table, and then he’s all over Blake.

The detective shivers, blinking rapidly as he feels fingers carding through his hair, sweeping it behind his ears. Adam’s straddling him again, and oh god, in those tight jeans of his it’s almost impossible for Blake not to let his hands wander. 

Adam doesn’t protest when Blake’s fingers find the backs of his thighs. Instead he croons into Blake’s ear. “I’m the tricky one, Blake. I snagged myself an honest-to-god good guy in this crazy, fucked up city.”

Blake’s spluttering, but Adam’s fingers settle against his neck. He steers Blake to look up into his dark eyes. “You are an amazing person Blake, and the crazy thing is you don’t know just how rare that is in the world. Especially here.”

Adam traces a thumb over Blake’s lower lip, and Blake can feel the heat coming off of him. “…So you’ll forgive me for saying that you’re wrong. I’m the lucky one, babe.”

Adam presses their lips together and Blake tightens his hold on Adam with a moan. They’re pressed so tightly against one another, wrapped up in each other that it doesn’t seem crazy when Blake hoists Adam up and carries him into his bedroom. 

Blake tosses him down, and Adam smiles up at him devilishly. “You can unzip your jeans again.”

Blake complies.  
…

Adam wakes up suddenly, jerking upright with a gasp. He’s bewildered until he spots a sheepish, rumpled looking Blake standing at the door. “I’m sorry to wake you,” He says. “But I made breakfast. I figured we didn’t actually eat much of our dinner last night, and well… after strenuous activity it’s best to refuel.”

Adam laughs. “Breakfast sounds fucking amazing.” He begins to slide out of bed, and his legs feel like jelly underneath him. He wobbles a bit as he heads for the bathroom, but he expertly hides his wince of soreness just in case Blake is watching him still.

Blake had really done a number on him… honestly, he hadn’t been expecting that. Blake had a LOT to work with in the bedroom, and it’d been a long time since Adam had been on the receiving end of any kind of dalliance. 

Still, it had been a good burn- a delicious one if he was honest. He couldn’t remember ever having such electric chemistry with anyone in the sack. When tears had sprung to his eyes and Blake tried to pull away in concern, Adam had only wrapped his arms around him tighter. 

He had let Blake think it was from physical discomfort, but in reality the source of his tears had been emotional pain.

Last night had been perfect, and being wrapped up in Blake’s arms had felt safe. Like home. In all his affairs, with all his boyfriends and girlfriends… no one had ever made him feel like that. 

Blake’s eyes had seared down at him, savoring Adam’s shuddery gasps and moans, all the while blissfully unaware that his lover was a slimy, two-faced weasel.

Adam stared at himself in Blake’s bathroom mirror. 

Today was the day. 

He and the guys were going to rob Jason Briggs right under Blake’s nose tonight. 

As he took in his sex hair and fucked out expression, self-loathing welled up inside of him. He was using Blake. Blake was the real deal, a diamond in the rough, and here he was. Taking advantage.

Never one to subscribe to any moral absolutes, this sudden, overwhelming feeling of being a bad person was new. It was choking him. 

“Keep your eye on the prize, Levine.” Adam hissed at his reflection. After a deep breath, he began to wash up.

Feeling a little better and a little bit cleaner, Adam shuffled out to the kitchen and leaned up to reach a kiss onto Blake’s cheek. He helped himself to the scrambled eggs on the stove, moaning in appreciation at the avocado, cheese and salsa added in. 

He ate slowly, savoring the warmth of the food as Blake watched him from where he stood with his own plate. 

“So,” Adam hummed around his fork as he took another slow bite. “What’s on the agenda today Inspector Clouseau? Anything exciting?”

Blake rolled his eyes at the nickname. “You’re getting more inventive with those.”

Adam stays silent, waiting, and so Blake sighs. “Since I can’t catch a single lead on that case I’ve been working on, I’m just doing a lot of paperwork today. I’m covering my colleagues shift so I’ll be at the precinct late into the evening.”

Relief floods through Adam, but he pretends to pout. “Damn. So no repeat performance tonight? Here I was, hoping for another round.”

Blake’s eyes darken, and he smiles mischievously. “Why wait? Sure, I have to get ready for work, but… showers are good for more than one thing.”

“That’s true.” Adam laughs, moving to finish his eggs quickly. It looks like they’re in the clear tonight, so celebrating with a little morning fun seems like a perfect idea to him.  
…

Adam slinked into his house later in the morning, his head down. He was creeping up the stairs, using all of his skills in stealth to keep silent. He might just make it…

“You’re back, I see.”

Adam froze. 

James was leaning on the bookshelf in the living room, flipping through one of their countless art books, but his eyes weren’t focused on the pages. They were focused on Adam. “Did you have a nice night?”

Adam slowly let out a sigh. “Yeah. A very productive evening. Listen, can we do this later? I wanna go get ready now so-”

“No, I think we should talk now.” 

Adam almost flinches at the confrontational tone. “James…”

“You haven’t given us an update on Blake in weeks. We don’t ever see you. You don’t call. You’re always out, and we assume you’re with him. Are we wrong?”

Adam shrugs his shoulders evasively. “What does it matter? I’m still working it, I’ll get us intel, there’s no reason to be pissy.”

“I think there is Adam. The job is TODAY, just in case you’ve forgotten. There’s no reason for you to have met up with him last night. You’re acting funny.” James approaches him and Adam doesn’t breath when his friend’s eyes widen. Fuck. 

“You don’t wear cologne, Adam,” James says, shocked, “Fuck, is…is that-?”

“Stop!” Adam cries. He can’t handle this right now, not after the most wonderful, romantic, perfect sex he’s ever had, sex filled with emotions and feelings that all stemmed from a big fat fucking LIE. 

“I don’t know why you’re shocked, YOU’RE the one who backed me up when this started, YOU were all for it!”

James concerned gaze hardens as he takes in Adam’s distress. He sees right through the deflection and doesn’t take Adam’s bait to start a fight. 

“You’ve been compromised.” 

It isn’t a question. 

Adam can’t find it in himself to argue. He’s sore, he’s tired, and his heart is aching in his chest as though it’s suffered hairline fractures all around the edges. He swallows around the lump rising in his throat. “I’m going upstairs.”

“Adam, wait-“

He darts away, not caring that James will inevitably tell the others, not caring that he’s in for a world of drama later today. All he wants is to lie in bed and try to remember Blake’s kisses on his skin.  
…

Adam’s movements are shaky as he holsters himself into the repulsion line. It’s just after midnight and out past the front gate they’d infiltrated, the street was dead silent. 

He stares back over his shoulder at the maroon sedan that slowly drives by the mansion from where he’s perched on the roof. He inhales and lets out his breath slowly in an attempt to slow his heart rate. It doesn’t help much. 

“Adam. What’s the hold up?” PJ’s voice crackles through his headset.

The thief jumps about a mile, barely holding in his cry of surprise. Christ, what was wrong with him? He was never jumpy on a job.

Angrily he reaches up and taps twice on the mic- its their sign for “all clear” without the risk of actually speaking aloud.

“Okay, but try to pick it up man.” PJ says, “You’re on a countdown.”

Adam rolls his eyes but gets back to work. He slices the glass in the skylight very carefully, the light of the laser a purplish hue from behind his protective goggles. As he painstakingly pries the cut glass away and sets it aside, the screaming and yelling from the his fight with the guys replays in his mind. After his confrontation with James he’d aimed to hide out in his room until it was time to leave for the job, but the guys had had other plans. 

In a stunning deviation from their typical pre-op routine, his friends had picked a fight with him that had exploded the tension that had been suffocating the house these last few weeks. It had been a colossally stupid move. Usually they all avoided nit picking one another before a job so that everyone could get their heads on straight- even if there was serious drama going on, they left it at the door when working so it wouldn’t cause anyone to make rash decisions under pressure.

James and PJ had led the conflict, and soon their concern had turned into an intervention-gone-wrong type scenario. The moment Adam has spit out the words, “If you don’t trust me, then why don’t you do this one without me?!” The whole thing had devolved in epic fashion. Adam’s blood was still boiling as he strapped himself in and started to lower his body slowly into the house. However, the heat was extinguished in the next moment.

“Evening.”

Adam’s head whipped down, searching in alarm for the source of the greeting, and his world promptly imploded.

Blake was standing in the middle of the room, staring up at Adam.

“Surprised to see me?” Blake drawled, his hand resting on his gun. 

Adam was trapped like an animal; the shock of seeing Blake was crashing over him in waves. 

“Who’s that?” PJ said through Adam’s headset with panic. “The house is supposed to be empty, there’s no-“

With shaking fingers Adam reached up and switched off his mic, and his heart sank as he saw Blake track his movements, telegraphing just in case Adam drew a weapon.

Confusion and fear was suffocating the thief. Just this morning, Adam had kissed him over coffee when he’d grumbled over having to spend tonight doing paperwork.

Blake had lied.

Against his better judgment he’d let Blake fuck him last night; he’d struggled helplessly through his own pleasure while his guilt tortured him from the inside out. He’d had to reassure himself, telling himself it was all worth it, worth it for the job, but now Blake was here and it had all been for nothing. Blake had caught him.

“What? No snarky flirting from you anymore?” Blake quipped. “It’s not easy bein’ funny when you’re caught red handed is it?”

Adam stayed silent, his heart in his throat. He was fucked. He was so royally fucked. This was too much. Playing Blake in daylight, play-acting his way through their relationship was hard enough… if he actually got his hands on Adam and unmasked him, the look of shock and betrayal on his lover’s face just might kill him. Adam’s stomach rolled as he imagined that scenario. No matter what, he couldn’t let that happen. It wasn’t an option. 

“The way I see it, you have a choice to make.” Blake said, pacing a little below Adam. “You can come down here and I’ll take you in quietly. Or you can try to run and shimmy yourself back up onto the roof.”

“Here’s the thing though,” Blake held up a hand, and a small tinge in his tone told Adam he was enjoying this. After chasing him for weeks, he was probably ecstatic to have finally caught Adam- lord knows he’d lamented Adam’s slippery ways enough times when they were together. “If you try to run, there are cops all over the property. Plus, I have a gun. I’d rather not shoot you, but I will if you make me.”

‘Just breathe, Adam.’ The thief thought to himself hazily. ‘Just… just keep breathing.’ 

“The other option is much more enjoyable for everyone. I know it’s my favorite. There’ll be no fighting, no gunfire, I won’t have to get all sweaty chasin’ you.” Blake rattled off these points quickly, clearly anxious to have this be done with. “Give it up.”

It’s a stare down, and it’s the longest few moments of Adam’s life. His mind is whirring with options, but he can’t see a way out that doesn’t harm Blake. In the end, this is what makes his decision for him.

His whole body trembling, Adam reaches up and hits release button. He’s descending slowly, getting closer and closer to Blake, who almost seems surprised but is trying to keep his features schooled. He’s pulling out handcuffs-

“ALERT. ALERT. THIS IS THE BIOHAZARD ALARM.”

“What?” Adam gasps despite himself and looks around in amazement as the lights around them start to flash blindingly on and off again. The siren is deafening- both he and Blake are covering their ears, slack jawed, but the automated voice booms again over a speaker.

“BEGINNING DECONTAMINATION PROCESS. COUNT DOWN INITIATED…5…4…3…”

Realization slams into Adam. “PJ!” He says to himself under his breath. “You crazy on of a bitch.”

Adam hurriedly flips on his headset, and PJs panicked yelling immediately tunnels into his ear- “ADAM ADAM GET OUT OF THERE, THE DECON SPRAY WILL GIVE YOU TIME, IF YOU’RE LISTENING YOU STUPID, IDIOTIC-“

Adam moves lightning fast, hitting the button and shooting back up to the ceiling. Blake’s moved his hands from his ears, and is reaching for his gun.

Thick whirls of mist begin jetting into the room through ventilation shafts, impeding his view of Blake. 

“DON’T!” He yells, aiming at the thief. Adam stares at him, helpless even as the detective grows smaller in his sights. He’s forced to tear his eyes away from Blake’s stricken features; he reaches up and pulls himself out, swinging his body round-

BANG.

Terrible, burning pain sears through Adam’s lower left leg. “Agh!” He cries, gripping his calf, and suddenly his black gloves are covered in blood. 

Blake had shot him.

Breathing through his nose, he examines his leg for only a second- its all the time he can afford- and luckily the bullet looks like it’s only just grazed his leg. It would probably need stitches, but it could’ve been worse. 

Tears are falling hot and fast from his eyes now, and he has to blink them away as he limps to the edge of the roof. “I-I don’t want to do this anymore…” Adam whispers to himself brokenly.

He’s forgotten PJ can hear him, and the hacker speaks to Adam with forced calm. “We are right outside, at the gate of the house opposite. I’ve diverted the half dozen cops on the property, they think you’re in the house-“ PJs voice is shaking. He must’ve heard the gun shot. 

“Just… just try to get to the street and you’re home free. Can you walk?”

Adam nods, then remembers himself. “Yeah.” He rasps, and with a moan of agony he throws himself over the ledge of the roof. He braces himself as he hits the canopy on the front side of the house, but he still almost blacks out from the pain of his landing. 

Breathing hard, he limps steadily towards the gate, breaking out into a full run despite his injury when he hears yelling behind him. His terror is unreal, forcing him forward, and he flies through the front gate that’s opening as if by magic. “Thank god for hackers…” He mumbles, feeling dizzy, and suddenly the sedan is FLYING out of the opposite driveway. 

“ADAM!” James screams, his face white with horror, and he throws open the back door, catching Adam as he flings himself inside. 

Jesse floors it, speeding and squealing through the Hollywood hills. The siren wailing from the house fades, and soon the sounds of the city filter in through the open windows. 

The breathing is heavy in the car, disbelief and fear running through all of them, all of them except Adam. He’s leaning into James, letting his friends hands flutter over his injury helplessly. James is saying something, it sounds reassuring, apologetic…He doesn’t mind, he thinks sleepily. James will make sure he’s all right; his friends will get him home… he wants to go home…

But these days, home has meant warm, strong arms and sparkling blue eyes. Adam coughs, his lids fluttering. “Bla…. Blake…” He mumbles with effort. “….shot me… doesn’t know…”

“Is he delirious?”

“Fuck that’s a lot of blood…”

The fear in that voice should scare Adam. He can’t muster up any emotions at all.

“Why is it bleeding so much? Did the bullet go in?”

“No… no, J-Jessie you need to take us to the hospital!”

I don’t like hospitals, Adam thinks vaguely. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. 

He tries again. “Wha… wherrsss….wherrrsss Bla-”

His words are slurring, and Jesse hushes him, trying to be comforting.

“Out of the question. If he’s admitted they’ll find him in a heartbeat. No. We have to handle this ourselves…”

“Adam, can you hang in there?” 

“We’re almost home…. Adam?”

“Adam!”

James and PJ are talking loudly at him but Adam is too tired to stay awake.

He slips away.  
…

 

Adam is thirsty. Water is all he wants in this world. His brows draw down in discomfort, and he knows instinctively that if he opens his eyes it will hurt. He opens them anyway.

“Euurgh..” He mumbles, throwing his hands up to shield his eyes from the bright light streaming into the living room.

“Thank fuck!” He hears from what seems to be right next to him, and he winces at the volume, trying to curl away. Shushing fills the room, followed by the sound of a smack and an “Ow!”

“Don’t yell!” He hears James whisper angrily. 

“Goddamnit James.” Jesse hisses back, and Adam feels a smile tugging at his lips. He opens his eyes again, squinting bravely into the light. His friends are huddled around where he’s prone on the sofa, white faced but smiling in relief.

“Hey guys.” He says hoarsely. “So… am I hung over or did I really get shot last night?”

The others laugh weakly, but Adam can tell they’re too keyed up to really joke right now. 

“Not last night, Adam.” Jesse says softly. “Two days ago.”

Adam blinks. “What?!” 

It’s a sign of how far gone he is that his first thought is how Blake is probably wondering where he was.

He tries to sit up, tries to bolt upwards but suddenly his friends are yelling and shoving him back down.

“Don’t move your leg, man!” PJ says, eyeing the stitches on Adam’s calf. “It was a shoddy patch job as is, the less you wiggle around the better.”

Adam cranes his neck, looking down at his leg with disbelief. “I’ve never been shot before.” He says tonelessly. This was all feeling very surreal.

“I’m so sorry, Adam.” James says, and Adam looks up at him in surprise. “I should’ve never agreed to this, we should’ve been on a plane out of LA weeks ago. This is all my fault- if I hadn’t pushed you…”

Adam stares in amazement as his friend and mentor loses his composure in front of all of them. James looks drawn, as if he’s aged ten years. “Hey,” Adam says. “Don’t. It was my idea. It was my call.”

“Okay. I’m going to sit up now, slowly and carefully,” Adam says with a groan. “No one attack me.”

They let him rearrange himself, and he fights dizziness as he accepts a glass of water from Mickey. “Where’s my phone?” He asks.

“Why?” Matt asks, tense.

Adam levels him with a look. “I’ve been out for two days. I think I’m entitled to an update.”

“You can’t call him, Adam.” James blurts, still looking guilty but firm. “You can’t see him.”

Adam snaps. “Well, gee, thanks for stating the obvious.” He puts his hand out for his mobile. “But Blake will be wondering where I’ve gone, we haven’t been out of touch this long since we first started talking. I just want to see how bad the damage is.”

His friends look at one another uncertainly, and Adam fights the urge to roll his eyes. 

“I promise I won’t reply, okay?”

Eventually, James pulls the cell out of his pocket and plops it into Adam’s open hand. 

Setting down his water, Adam quickly swipes open the mobile and begins flipping through his notifications. His stomach flip flops. 6 missed calls. 8 text messages.

He braces himself, then opens the texts. Adam’s breathing picks up as he reads.

‘Well, I just had a shit day at work. Makes me want to relive this morning. Miss you.’

‘Hey. What are you up to today?’

‘Hope every thing is okay. Give me a call. I miss you.’

‘Adam?’

‘Do we need to talk about our date night? If we moved too fast, we can slow back down- I just want to see you. Call me.’

‘Hey, you must be busy. Haven’t heard from you. Please let me know you’re okay.’

‘Not to be paranoid, but I’m worried here. Please call me.’

‘I really need to hear your voice. If you don’t want to see me, just… Please Adam, just let me know everything is alright.’

Adam’s eyes are welling up with tears. He clears his throat, doing his best to blink them away. The image of Blake, shaken and worriedly staring at his phone, waiting for any message from Adam is like a stab in the heart because Adam knows he won’t be getting one. 

“Uhh… right.” He says croakily, wiping his eyes. He takes a deep, shaky breath “Okay. Okay, guys, we need a plan. What are we going to do?”

There’s pity in James tone when he speaks, looking at Adam in concern. “We’ve booked our flights. We leave tomorrow morning. Naples.”

It’s a blow, and it takes Adam’s breath away so he just nods. They’re going to run for it. 

“Here. We made you some soup.” Matt pushes a bowl forward and Adam resists the urge to fling it against the wall and hear it shatter. He wants to break something. He wants to scream. “We’ve already packed most of everything. Just sit tight. 12 more hours and this’ll all be over.”

You’re wrong, the thief wants to say. Adam knows deep in his bones that no matter where he goes, know matter how far he flees, thoughts of Blake will still be with him. He’d managed to worm his way into Adam’s heart, and even if he never saw the man again, he’d still see that bright, loving face whenever he closed his eyes. 

The room begins bustling as the boys start packing things up, destroying evidence, and removing any trace of their existence. He watches the memory of their life here being wiped away as tears leak silently down his face. Adam doesn’t say a word. 

…

Blake is out of his mind with worry. 

His trap for the cat burglar had gone horribly, terribly wrong. His embarrassment over the fiasco, coupled with the guilt of having to discharge his weapon and the onslaught of paperwork he and Luke had been buried under the next day had been one long, hellish nightmare.

When he’d slogged through his debrief back at the precinct around 2 in the morning, he’d shot Adam a short text, hoping that a reply from his lover would help him feel a bit better. But Adam never texted him back. He didn’t reply when Blake messaged him again around lunch either.

At first he thought he must be busy, or sleeping in, but Adam didn’t pick up when he called him twice the next day.

He started to worry that night. Maybe their perfect date and morning goodbye hadn’t been as wonderful for Adam as it had been for him. Adam had been so attentive, so loving though…He tried to put it out of his mind.

He knew it was desperate, that it sent all the wrong signals, but he sent Adam more texts. Still nothing. 

Now, 48 hours later without so much as a blip on the radar from Adam, he was well past worried and into panic mode. 

“Stop pacing.” Luke said tiredly from his desk. “You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor.”

Blake ignored him and continued to move in an agitated manner, back and forth over and over again as he stared down at his phone. Scenarios had started popping up in his mind. Maybe Adam had been mugged… maybe he’d been in a car wreck…

…Or maybe he just doesn’t want to see you again, a small voice in the back of Blake’s mind whispers. The detective’s shoulders hunch at the thought. No. Adam would at least give him the courtesy of breaking it off in person. He wouldn’t just vanish. He couldn’t.

Blake stopped short, his decision made. 

“Pull up the triangulation software.” He barked at Luke. 

His colleague looked at him in confusion. “You think you know where the thief is?”

“What?” Blake asked, trying to sound in control when really he felt like he was about to lose it. “No. No… this is for another case.”

Luke looked at him doubtfully, but pulled up the program anyway. Blake leaned in and entered Adam’s number. 

“Whoever they are, looks like they’re about to hit the skies.” Look said as a pulsing dot appeared over LAX on the map. Blake’s heart started beating quickly. Adam still had his phone, and he was at the airport? Why would Adam be leaving and not say anything? Something must be wrong. He ought to check. 

“I have to go.” He says, and swipes his keys. Luke watches him run out the door.  
…

“Easy, Adam.” James says, bracing his friend against his side. He’s helping the thief across the tarmac, and their friends watch from the steps of the jet as they make their way slowly away from the car. 

“This is humiliating.” Adam winces, and James just chuckles. “Nah, man. People will think you’re a badass. Like you're in fight club or something probably.”

Adam glances up at his friend’s face skeptically. “Hard to feel like a badass in fucking basketball shorts, James.”

“Shut up, you pretentious nerd.” James sighs, “You don’t have to look fashionable all the time. We have to let the wound breathe.”

Adam rolls his eyes but he knows James is right. Everyone was waiting on him now, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about walking slowly. He didn’t want to leave LA. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to turn back. 

He knows it’s stupid and that it flies in the face of all the precautions they’re taking, but when they’d packed themselves up in the car, Adam had hidden the burner phone in his pocket. If he was never going to see Blake again, he’d be damned if he gave up his only connection to the man. His heart stuttered in his chest as he again was reminded that those confused, sad text messages were going to be his last from Blake. 

A sudden commotion at the mouth of the jet pulls Adam out of his pity party. He and James look up in confusion as Jesse and Mickey scream and wave at them from the plane. “What the hell?” James murmurs.

Mickey is pointing, saying something over the dull roar of the engines, and then Adam’s blood turns to ice in his veins as he turns. 

“Oh NO.” James croaks. 

Adam proves once again how much of a moron he is when he starts beaming. A car had peeled out onto the runway next to theirs, sirens flashing on top of it, and Blake emerged, looking harried. 

Their eyes found one another from across the airstrip, and Blake’s relieved, hopeful expression warms Adam’s heart.. Blake had come looking for him. 

Then, Blake’s gaze falls to Adam’s leg. His face goes ashen. His eyes darken.

“Oh SHIT!” James cries, realizing what Blake must be seeing, the connections that are being made in the detectives head. Suddenly Adam’s view is rolling by, whirling around, and what the fuck. James has picked him up, throwing him half over his shoulder in order to start running for the plane. 

“ADAM!” 

The thief looks up at the detective's cry. Blake’s running towards them, but he doesn’t look angry, Adam thinks. He looks hurt. Frantic. 

James bolts up the steps, and PJ is seizing Adam and pulling the both of them into the plane. The door slams closed, closing off Adam’s view of Blake. It’s like being shot all over again.

“GO, JESSE!” PJ is screaming. “GO!”

They all lurch, tumbling in the alley of the small plane as it starts rolling, picking up speed rapidly. 

“Wait-“ Adam gasps, feeling hysterical. “Wait…I…”

But Adam can feel it. The wheels are leaving the tarmac. They’re in the air. Adam stays where he’s been thrown, shell-shocked. The nausea he suddenly feels is not from their rapid ascent, that much he knows. 

All of them jerk in surprise when Adam's phone pings. He ignores James incredulous, angry stare as he pulls out the burner phone he should not have and reads the text.

‘I’m not giving up. I’m going to find you.’

Adam feels a tremulous smile on his face despite the circumstances. What a stubborn jackass. Blake and him really would’ve been perfect. Maybe in another life.

Adam’s fingers are trembling as he types.

‘No you won’t. Goodbye. I’m sorry. I love you.’

He presses send. 

He hands the phone to Mickey with a shaking hand. He hears his friend smash the phone, and his tears begin to fall.


	2. The Chase

The woman wouldn’t shut up. Adam stared down at her with a soft, adoring (totally fake) smile but he wanted nothing more than to look at his watch. 

"So any way, I started working for William four years ago.” She blathered on. “He picked me up from this tiny little gallery in Greenwich Village, can you believe that? He just stopped in one day and plucked me out of the crowd-"

"Adam. Enough chatter. Make a move or something! You're already four minutes behind the timeline."

Adam strained to concentrate on his targets small talk. He repressed the urge to reach up and yank the comm line out of his ear- one day he really was going to tell PJ off for being a goddamn chatter box. Suddenly he noticed the lull in conversation was lingering. 

Shit, what was she saying?

"...I'm sorry?" Adam asked.

His conversation partner let out a chuckle. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I asked if maybe you wanted to get out of here? Take a walk?"

Adam smiled his best smile sweetly at the curator, the one he knew softened his eyes and showed his perfectly straight teeth as he heard James and PJ sigh with relief over his earpiece. "That sounds lovely, Jess."

The thief took the woman's arm and guided her through the party with expert grace. Adam kept his head high even as he covered her hand clasped on his arm with one of his own. He scanned the Gala's guests in all their finery for one particular face, looking for that one signal. 

Adam felt himself relax ever so slightly as he saw Matt on the grand staircase. He made eye contact with Adam, tapped his champagne glass with his pinky like they’d planned, and then turned tail and made his way to the second floor. They weren’t behind schedule after all, Adam thought resentfully. PJ and James were just being paranoid. 

Adam let Jess bask in the attention she was currently being given, doing his best to play the role of devoted arm candy. As he twinkled down at her, he spotted some of her colleagues eyeing them with jealousy out of his peripheral vision.

"It looks like all eyes are on you tonight," Adam whispered in her ear. She giggled and leaned into his side more. They made it across the grand ballroom and stepped out onto the balcony. The soft breeze off the bay rustled the fabric of their formal wear slightly, and as they leaned against the marble balustrade the pair of them took in the magnificent waterfront view of Monte Carlo. 

They chatted softly for a few minutes, Adam making sure to be as witty and interesting as possible, but eventually they both got lost in looking at the sight before them. Across the calm waters, the city was lit ethereally in that special way only European cities are. Monte Carlo was the perfect amalgamation of old and new- the epitome of luxury, and a sanctuary for those who were blessed to call it home. 

"Beautiful." Adam murmured.

"I know," Jess gushed as she finished off her champagne and set the flute on the balcony. "This sunset is just to die for."

"Oh, I guess that’s nice too.” Adam said softly, letting his hand rest against the small of her back. “I was looking at something else." 

Adam heard James and PJ groan with exasperation at the line as Jess looked up at him, starry eyed. Sure it was cliché, but it worked every time. 

Adam leaned down, hovering close, letting his fingers brush aside a stray lock of her hair. Her eyes became hooded; she was leaning up into his space, their lips about to connect...

"...Would you like a refill?" Adam whispered, keeping his gaze on her mouth. She bit her lip and nodded. 

Adam plucked her glass off the balcony. 

"Hurry back." Jess said breathlessly as she ran her fingers over his suit. 

"I'll be counting the minutes." He smiled.

Well, it wasn't a lie. 

Once Adam was back in the ballroom he glanced at his wristwatch. 12 minutes left. The thief took to the grand staircase with a brisk pace. 

"You are the cheesiest motherfucker on the planet." James' voice crackled over the comm line. 

Adam chuckled as he turned through the maze of hallways with the ease of one having memorized the estates blueprints. "Gets the job done, doesn't it?"

"Doesn't mean I enjoy listening to it."

After checking to make sure the coast was clear, Adam stepped into an ornate library and walked to the back bookshelf. As he rounded the corner Matt and his bag of materials were revealed.

"You got it?" He asked Adam as he pulled his gloves on. 

"Yup. Four perfects and a fifth partial, I'm pretty damn sure." Adam carefully handed over the glass and Matt got to work. He placed the glass into a plastic bag of ionized sulfuric powder and gripped the flute by the stem after sealing the bag. He gave it a good few shakes. The powder dusted over the glass in a thin, even layer. 

"Hold on to that." Matt instructed as he handed Adam the bag. The con man held the base of it, watching to make sure its sides didn’t touch the plastic so Matt could unseal the bag and spray in the bright blue aerosol reagent. 

"You're like a wizard, dude." Adam watched in fascination as the curator's once invisible fingerprints turned a bright red. 

Matt laughed quietly as he extricated the flute and pressed each of his gloved fingertips to the corresponding ones on the glass. 

"We got 'em, guys." Adam said happily as Matt pulled away with a perfect set of five prints. James and PJ whooped over the comm, and Adam smiled as he heard what was almost certainly a high five. 

"Awesome job Matt," James said, his voice much more relaxed now than it had been all night. "Now get outta there."

Adam checked his watch again. 4 minutes.

He packed up Matt's things for him since the guy was carefully guarding his gloved hand from any contact. Adam slung the go bag over Matt's chest and the pair of them walked to the French windows across the study. When Adam pried open the window and peeked two stories down onto the water he spotted Jesse in a tiny blue speedboat. The boat bobbed in the waves of the bay as it's motor puttered quietly. 

Adam climbed up and out, levering his bodyweight. He kept an iron grip on the window frame, braced his feet against the home's exterior and leaned outwards. As he outstretched his hand he looked down just in time to see Jesse fire his pull-gun. The shot was quiet, but the suspension rope shot high enough from the gun to whiz right past Adam's face. He jerked back slightly as the spear of the grappling hook buried itself in the stone of the house. The thief yanked himself back to the window and turned to watch Jesse. 

Another muffled shot and a harness whirred up the length of the cable on a pulley. Adam grabbed and held onto it. 

"You ready?" He asked Matt, crouching to peek back into the study. The man nodded and began to carefully pull himself out of the window. Adam strapped his friend into the harness, double checking the buckles as Matt cradled his gloved hand carefully to his chest. 

"Off you go!" Adam grinned as he let go and watched Matt descend rapidly and plop into the cushion settled in the speedboats hull. Jesse released the suspension line from the boat end of the cable, then quickly got behind the steering wheel. The boat took off just as Adam's watch alarm started beeping.

His muscles trembling slightly from the work of keeping himself upright, Adam pulled himself quickly back inside, just in time to avoid being seen by the marine patrol boat that rounded the corner right on schedule. 

He landed lightly in the library and stooped to pull his knife from the holster on his calf that was hidden underneath his slacks. 

He stood by the window frame and watched as the guard in the boat made a perfunctory inspection of the water off the side of the house. Adam smiled. The guy didn’t even think to look up.

Once he was gone, Adam reached out and cut the cord and heard it splash into the water below. No one would be able to tell they had been there now. 

Once the cable was severed, Adam re-sheathed his knife, slicked his hair back and shut the window. 

"We're done." Adam said as he walked back through the hallways the way he'd come. 

"Nice. We're signing off. See you at base."

With a small click Adam's comm went dead. As he descended down the stairs and rejoined the party, Adam adopted his easy gait once more and made for the bar.

"Two fresh glasses and a bottle of Dom, please." Adam ordered, grabbing the attention of a few women lingering by the bar. He smiled at them as he collected his champagne. He'd kept his mark waiting long enough, he ought to bring her back the best. 

When he ditched her later after the party, at least she’d have a stellar bottle of booze to soothe her sorrow over losing her date.  
...

The private airstrips of Monte Carlo were not a place that Blake ever thought he'd be. It took probably his whole life’s salary just to afford a shoebox apartment here, so he felt more than a little ridiculous. The moment he stepped off the jet and onto the tarmac, a cool breeze ruffled his hair and he was met with a stunning view of the cape. From his vantage point he could see all down the cliffs to where the hillside villas blended into the wide avenues of magnificent hotels and casinos- all of which were banked against the brilliantly azure marina waters where hundreds of gleaming white sail boats and yachts were tethered. He was definitely not in Los Angeles anymore, that was for sure. 

The detective tried his best to appear calm and collected as he grabbed his bag from the flight attendant and approached a cluster of people standing by a small fleet of cars. Blake didn’t need any translation to know who these people were- police looked pretty much the same no matter where you were in the world, and Blake gathered that these were the men who had come to collect him. 

“Detective Shelton?” A man with a heavy French accent reached out to shake Blake’s hand. “I am Inspector Deniaud, with Interpol. We’ve been expecting you. Welcome.”

“Thank you.” Blake replied, trying to hide his smile. As he’d anticipated, some of Monsieur Deniaud’s colleagues looked taken aback at both his height and his accent. Yep, he was definitely a fish out of water, but Blake hoped to overcome this with his eagerness to help. “Your office said you might have a lead on the Levine case?”

“Yes, and we’d be very grateful for your assistance. The FBI says you’re the expert on the case, that you know the most about him?”

Blake nodded. “Yes, I’d say that’s accurate.”

If there was anyone on this Earth that knew Adam well, Blake thought with a pang, it was definitely him. 

“Come. We can discuss more at the precinct. There is much to share.”

The ride back to Interpol was a scenic one, but Blake was quickly realizing that every square inch of this city was scenic. As they arrived at the law enforcement office, Blake took in the well dressed locals and classic architecture of the buildings.

He tried to imagine Adam somewhere in this city, schmoozing with the ultra rich. He’d have no problem fitting in, Blake was sure. The notion that they were once again in the same city made Blake’s heart race.

The group of them rode the elevators to the fifth floor, where a large open office space was crowded with at least fifty desks and as many bustling people. He was led past all of the organized chaos to a conference room. 

Blake whistled. “Wow. You’ve been working hard.”

The walls of the room were covered in grainy surveillance photos and various maps of the city, along with snap shots of artifacts and paintings. On the conference table there were open laptops and thick stacks of paper. From where he stood, Blake could see lists of party venues, private estates and museums. 

Deniaud shrugged. “We are very anxious to prevent any theft. It hurts the city’s prosperity when we can’t protect our own.”

“I bet.” Blake muttered. It was no secret that Monte Carlo was a tax haven for the rich. When he’d gotten the call from Carson, he almost hadn’t wanted to help out. If it weren’t for the chance to see Adam again, he might not have boarded his flight. 

“Where should we start?” Blake asked, glancing up at the section chief. 

“With this.” The Interpol agent pointed at the surveillance images. “We caught sight of Monsieur Levine at the Opera House, two days ago. If it weren’t for the photos you released a month back, we would’ve never realized he was a thief.”

The dull ache in Blake’s chest exploded with fresh pain. In the photo, Adam looked handsome as ever, if a little bit thinner than he had been. He was wearing a tuxedo with a drink in hand and standing amongst a crowd of other people dressed just like him. Blake tried to breathe evenly.

“What about the others? Any ID on them?”

“The others?”

Blake pointed at the three others in the picture next to Adam. He recognized at least two of them from that day at LAX. The man with the long hair had been the one to grab Adam, Blake remembered. “These are his accomplices.”

“We didn’t realize,” Deniaud admitted. “We thought they were simply other guests.”

Blake shook his head. “No, he likes to travel with a large group. I’ve been working with what’s been left from the Los Angeles heists; it seems that each man has his own specialty and they combine their skills to go after objects as a team.”

“That is rare these days,” The Inspector marveled. “Like the old ways.”

“Tell me about it.” Blake agreed. These past six weeks, Blake had been going over every trace of the Los Angeles cases with painstaking detail. He’d barely left the office in all that time, hoping to stumble across some kind of lead that would give him a clue as to where Adam was. 

Work was the only thing that stopped him from going mad. He had to keep going over the files again and again, because when he was left with idle hands and thoughts of Adam, his heartbreak began to strangle him. Carson and Luke had tried to get him to move on to other cases, but he’d brushed them off. Nothing else mattered anymore.

He’d been so grateful when Interpol had contacted the FBI, and Carson only hesitated briefly before letting Blake go as a consultant. 

“You need to be in the right headspace for this, Blake.” His case manager had sighed. “You’ll be acting as a consultant and our liaison with both Interpol and the Monte Carlo police force. You have to be on your toes, and well… you’ve been acting strange ever since that stake out.”

Blake had shrugged defensively. “I can do this, Carson. It’s my job… there’s no one else better for it.”

“I just want to make sure you’ve fully recovered. It was the right call, Blake. You don’t need to feel guilty over discharging your weapon. Unfortunately it’s part of the job sometimes.”

Blake had gathered all his strength not to flinch at Carson’s words. “I know. I promise you sir, I’m fit for duty.”

“And there’s nothing you’re not telling me? No other details I should know about?”

“I left nothing out of my report.”

Carson had stared him down for a moment more before giving in. “Alright, detective. You can book your flight. Are you certain this case is worth all the trouble it’s causing you?"

"Yes." Blake said urgently, relief flooding through him at finally getting the go ahead. "This crew is a serious threat to the art market. They’re the most sophisticated team I've come across in awhile."

Carson gave him a searching look. "This is the most keyed up I’ve ever seen you about a case. And you didn’t even want it when it started. You used to complain about living out of a suitcase. Now you’re willing to hop continents to chase them?"

"Circumstances change." Blake had shrugged. It was a good thing Carson didn’t know exactly how much. 

Blake shook his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track. He was here to do a job. He couldn’t do that if he was wallowing in sad, anxious memories. He turned back to Deniaud.

“Speaking of old ways, have you read my reports on Levine’s MO?”

The Interpol agent shook his head, looking curious.

“He’s not just your average con man. He’s a cat burglar, and quite a skillful one at that. In my experiences with him, his favorite tactics usually include scaling buildings and entering from skylights or rooftops. The more stories a building has, the more likely that something inside is going to be a target.”

“The museums will be obvious choices,” Deniaud reached for his stack of papers with information on art, sounding overwhelmed. “But there’s also countless pieces in private homes. Too many to watch all at once, especially if each member of the crew is going after something different!”

“No, Ada- I mean, Levine’s crew doesn’t split up.” Blake disagreed. “They are like a family, they won’t split ranks for anything. They’d sooner give up the job than do that. No. They’ll be going after one large object. Something with a big enough price tag attached to make the time, effort and risk worth it.”

“That still doesn’t narrow down the list of targets enough. So what then, detective?”

Blake gazed at their list of potential marks. “It will be next to impossible to find out for certain what they’re after. The crew’s taste is sophisticated, but indiscriminate. They’ll go after any kind of art from any period. We’re better off trying to catch them through indirect means.”

“Explain, please.”

Blake turned, examining the map of the city on the wall. He was suddenly glad he’d studied up before landing. “Monte Carlo itself isn’t all that large, but the population is incredibly dense. I’d say we’d most likely find them by staking out hotels.”

Blake pointed to the grand plaza on the map. “Surveillance spotted them here, correct?”

Deniaud nodded. 

“Let’s watch the hotels in the area. The grandest, most luxurious ones.” Blake said thoughtfully. “Where are those on here?”

Deniaud stepped forward and pointed to three places. “The Hermitage, Hotel de Paris, and the Hotel Metropole. Certainly they are the best our city has to offer its visitors.”

Blake’s tone became bitter. “Levine is first and foremost a chameleon. He can fit in anywhere and fool anyone. If they’re really after something, then he’ll be playing some kind of role to blend in, which means he has to look the part. I’d bet money on him staying in one of these three.”

“Well, it is an excellent start.” The Interpol agent said briskly. “But it is late, and you must be tired. I’ll have someone drive you to your hotel. We can begin properly in the morning.”

If he was being honest, Blake wanted to get started right at that moment, but he relented. After six weeks of fruitless searching, he was closer than he’d ever hoped to be. What was one more day?  
…

The elevator doors of the Hotel Hermitage opened with a soft chime. Adam stepped out into the hallway, his keycard ready and in hand. He was exhausted and very thankful that they were staying so close to the bay, and at such a nice place too. He knew it was necessary for his cover, but it also afforded all of them much more space than they might’ve had on a typical job. 

Even so, the guys were crammed into the suite like frat boys. 

“Wow guys.” Adam deadpanned as he let himself into the room; his suit jacket slung over one shoulder. “This place is starting to look like the house in Los Feliz. Maybe we should, I don’t know, clean up at least some of this shit? So we don’t get black listed by the hotel when we check out? I’d like to come back to this place one day if you don’t mind.”

Almost all of them lived like slobs, which didn’t help matters at all. PJ had laid claim to half the living room area much to the frustration of the others, setting up his computers and cables like a control room, with junk food and energy drinks generously scattered throughout the wiring like landmines. 

Matt was sitting quietly in the reading nook by the window, polishing a gun. When they’d first checked in he had disappeared for a good twelve hours. The others didn’t think any of it when he’d silently reentered their rooms hefting four long wooden framed cases and stacked them neatly by the TV. Adam didn’t need to ask to know that more guns and knives were locked inside the cases, all acquired off the black market. Matt was scary sometimes. 

Adam took to avoiding that general area, and was hopeful that this job wouldn’t require weaponry of any kind. Ever since LA he’d become a little gun shy. 

The rest of the guys had sprawled anywhere there was room, so pretty soon the place had morphed into a huge mess. 

A chorus of varied greetings was all Adam got for his complaining, at least until James looked up from the lock picking set he was practicing with. 

“Adam,” James smiled. “Man of the hour. Took you a while to get back from the gala, huh? Did you have a little extra fun?”

Wolf whistles erupted around the hotel room, and Adam rolled his eyes. “No. Idiots.”

“Why?” James laughed. 

“Not in the mood.” Adam mumbled. He’d been on good form tonight, but the way he’d ditched Jess, leaving her all alone and confused, had left him feeling itchy under the collar. A voice in the back of his head reminded him that it was probably because it wasn’t dissimilar to what he’d done to a certain cowboy not too long ago.

“Not in the mood?” James gaped. “The infamous womanizer, Adam Levine, not in the mood? Is the world ending?”

“Har har.” Adam grunted. Honestly, it wasn’t funny. Not even a little bit. 

“Sure she talked way too much, but she was hot.” James chuckled. “Why pass that up?”

“You know why.” Adam snapped. 

The room immediately became quiet, and the newfound tension made Adam mentally slap himself. 

“Look… I mean…” Adam tried to back track as Mickey and PJ eyed him with an infuriating amount of pity. “I’m just tired I think. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Adam.” Jesse said softly. “It’ll take time. That’s normal.”

Instead of making him feel better, Jesse’s attempt at being understanding made him want to scream at them all. He wants to tell them that all the time in the world won’t heal this wound. 

Instead he tries for a smile. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll get there eventually.”

Everyone but James tries to let the moment of awkwardness pass. PJ turns up the volume one the TV and starts typing loudly. Matt goes back to polishing his weapon. Jesse and Mickey begin to bicker about Dali and Dadaism. 

But James’ eyes follow Adam as he flees to one of the back bedrooms of their hotel suite. The thief shuts himself inside, dropping his jacket on the floor and leaning against the door for strength. 

Though they never talked about it, ever, Adam knew James was still harboring a large amount of guilt over Blake. The crew had never seen him lose it the way he had on their plane ride out of the states. He’d been a wreck, sobbing brokenly against Mickey, unable to stop the gut wrenching tears ripping out of his chest until he was almost sick with it. Eventually he had passed out against his friend, and when he’d woken up they were in Naples.

It had been a new side of Adam to all of them, and the thief remembers seeing James wide-eyed stare, how his friend and mentor seemed to finally understand the depth of Adam’s love for Blake just when it was too late to do anything about it.

6 weeks. It had been 6 weeks. Almost two whole months since they’d fled the states, and Adam still feels like he’s just left Blake on the tarmac at LAX yesterday. 

They’d hid out in Naples for a fortnight, licking their wounds and regrouping. Mickey and James had ventured out and consulted with whatever contacts they could find in the city. While they found an employer for a number of new jobs and plotted their course, the crew enjoyed the sand, surf, and the nightlife to try and forget their troubles. 

Adam couldn’t forget. He had stayed cooped up their hotel room the entire time as his leg healed. He barely spoke a word to anyone and ran through a frankly alarming number of cigarette packs- they’d started to accumulate in piles out on the hotel balcony, but his friends had been too afraid to intervene. Adam had chain smoked his way through two weeks worth of seaside sunsets and people watching out on that fucking balcony, patiently waiting until he could be useful to his team once more. 

He’d given up the love of his life for his family. He needed to make it worth it. After botching their last job and being left with nothing to think about but his failures and his heartbreak, Adam had almost wept with relief when they’d set off for Monte Carlo. Finally, he’d have his chance at redeeming himself. If he was able to do that, maybe he’d be able to move on. Or at least maybe his heart would stop hurting so much. 

When they’d landed they got straight to work, and James had accompanied Adam on his first outing in the city and gave him all the details about their next heist. He seemed anxious to help Adam get back into the swing of things after seeing him so shaky. 

“First thing’s first. You have to make this woman give you an opening.” James had said as he’d handed Adam designer loafers in the Prada boutique. They had shopped for clothing on Marina Avenue for almost a whole day while the other guys were off doing their own recon work. “You have your work cut out for you, but I think you can pull it off. I know you can.”

The goal was to convince the locals that he was one of them. It was a pretty classic con and a very straightforward one, but that didn’t make it any less dangerous. Mickey had picked out one painting in particular in Monte Carlo’s premier museum, and the best way they’d figured to get to it was for Adam to pretend to be another young billionaire.

It was a risky location for sure, which was almost certainly why James was trying to build up his confidence. Monte Carlo was a city of extreme luxury and leisure with a heavy police presence to match. Even with Adam’s masterful ways in wielding charm, manners and subtlety, the people here would be a challenge to fool. Those who lived here could smell a fake from miles away. 

Adam had to inhabit every inch of the role he was playing, and while it was understandable that the others were nervous about his capabilities, it still stung. Adam had to admit to himself if the roles were reversed, if one of them had broken down as completely as he had, his confidence in them would be shaken as well. 

Tonight’s success had gone a long way in restoring their faith in him. After frequenting her gallery this past week, Adam had been able to charm Jess enough to get invited to tonight’s party, where he had his window to get her fingerprints. In addition to being a curator she was also a maintenance and preservation consultant for the Nouveau Musee National de Monaco, which was where their target was currently in exhibition. Adam tried to muster up some pride about this, but all he felt was… emptiness. 

Their way of life used to give him so much excitement. Every job they’d ever done, he’d experienced that special thrill when preparing for the big pay off. This time, it wasn’t there. The worst part was he couldn’t even lie to himself about why. 

Adam slammed his palm against the door in frustration, utterly sick of how his thoughts always spiraled back to Blake. He turned and headed for the shower. Hopefully the hot water would help him sleep.  
…

Blake was happy to see that Deniaud was not afraid of hard work. He rapped on Blake’s hotel door right at sunrise the next morning with a cup of coffee in hand for the detective.

“Forgive the Styrofoam,” The Inspector said regretfully. “Normally takeaway is intolerable, but I have heard Americans appreciate efficiency.”

Blake nodded as he took a sip of the coffee. “You heard right, and I appreciate it. I’m anxious to begin.”

Blake’s hotel was nice enough, but as they drove in the Inspector’s car towards downtown and watched the rising sun’s rays reflect off the water and onto the Hotel Metropole, he could see that he’d been in a small-time establishment.

The Metropole was truly magnificent, and even at this early hour it was busy with cars coming and going, dozens of chauffeurs and valet attendants running the operation flawlessly.

“Those will be our eyes and ears,” Deniaud pointed to a few cameras in the area. “There are others much the same at the other two hotels. If there is no activity here, we can interchange our surveillance, or move from hotel to hotel. We are mainly here in case we spot one and are able to give chase. The cameras should catch everything however, and if all goes well we will have our sights on them by the end of the day.”

Blake nodded, already antsy. He settled in for the long wait.

Despite their auspicious start the night before, they don’t have much luck during the course of the morning. Countless young men come and go from the hotel, but neither Blake nor the facial recognition software catch sight of anyone who looks like Adam or his friends. By lunchtime, Blake’s cabin fever is getting the best of him.

Deniaud gives him a knowing smile. “Go take a walk. You haven’t had the chance to take in the sights yet.”

“I’m fine,” Blake protests, though the way his stomach growls gives him away. 

“We all must have breaks, detective.” The Inspector insists. “Take a meal and recharge. Then I will switch places with you. I will call you immediately if something happens.”

Blake hesitates for a moment. “Well… if you’re sure.”

Blake climbs out of the vehicle and shakes out his legs. Sitting in a cramped car for hours was not at all pleasant, and it was a beautiful day. Still though. Blake’s sense of urgency had yet to leave him, so he aimed to make it a working lunch. The detective walked around the area, trying to get a feel for the city. 

As they’d discussed the night before, there were dozens of potential targets all within this small area of downtown alone. Blake looked at all the possibilities- beautiful buildings sparkling in the sun, intimidating looking banks and high end galleries and boutiques all crammed next to one another. So many options.

Blake stopped at the smallest, simplest looking Boulangerie he saw for his lunch and ate it as he walked. One of the narrower streets he’d wandered down suddenly opened up before him, and the Southerner stared up in awe at the grand staircase of the Nouveau Musee de Monaco. If Blake knew Adam, this was definitely one of the more likely targets. 

Blake smiled despite himself. He could almost imagine walking these streets with the younger man. His heart suddenly aching in his chest, Blake remembered their dates and outings in Los Angeles. He remembered how Adam had led him to his favorite places and explored the city with him, practically bursting with enthusiasm and love and wanting to share all of that with him. 

He missed him so much that it was hard to breathe. Blake looked around the plaza, suddenly feeling resentful of all the couples he saw enjoying their midday meals together. He missed that so much. He missed it enough that, if he was being honest, he was starting to see Adam’s face in the crowd of strangers…. A flash of dark hair here… a pair of bright hazel eyes there… 

…A small, discreet looking ear piece?

…

The hotel room was getting tense for Adam. Now that he’d completed the task of getting Jess’ fingerprints, he was pretty much benched until the night of the heist. They were waiting until the opening day of the Grand Prix, when all the large venues would be open late for the parties and galas. This would be the best time to access the museum’s exhibition hall, because the police would be occupied by keeping order amidst the citywide revelry. 

While James worked on contacting their fence, Matt prepared the equipment they all might need. Jesse was acquiring their get away vehicle (a boat, it was the option with the least issues concerning security and border crossings), and Mickey was readying their tools for safely transporting the art and maintaining its condition during their escape. 

Adam had been feeling cooped up in the hotel suite, with the familiar pangs of uselessness grabbing hold of him. PJ must’ve been able to sense his anxieties because he’d halted his coding and shut his laptop. 

“C’mon.” He said, patting Adam on the shoulder where he was curled up on the sofa. “Get dressed. In one of your snazzy suits.”

“Where are we going? We’re supposed to stay low key.”

“We’re gonna go scope out the Museum.” PJ said. “James can’t get mad at us for being out if it’s for the job. Besides, we need to do it anyway. We have to plan your route in detail, and seeing their camera models will help me hack them more efficiently the night of.”

Adam smiled at his friend gratefully. He knew the whole thing about the camera models was bullshit- PJ could hack anything now matter how sophisticated. That meant he was just trying to help Adam keep his cool and get some air. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

“Look at you, Mr. Fancy!” PJ teased as Adam stepped out in one of his best suits. The thief laughed, happy for some humor. He took the earpiece PJ handed him obediently and put it on. It was the smart move to stay in contact, even on this small errand. They rode the lift down to the lobby together, but after they snuck out the back kitchen entrance they split up.

“I’m gonna go find a seat with a view.” PJ said as they parted ways, his voice filtering into Adam’s comm line. “You head to the pavilion and do your thing. I’ll be close by, keeping watch.”

Adam made his way to the plaza, enjoying the sounds of the city and the coastal air. He really did hate sitting still, and he immediately felt better now that he was strolling along the avenue. Adam was enjoying the sunshine so much that it felt as though he’d reached the plaza in no time at all.

He looked about the area and then up at the grand staircase in front of the museum. The building was a glorious tribute to classical architecture; a true reflection of the city it honored. 

“What do you think, man?” PJ asked over the line. Adam shrugged, knowing the hacker would be able to see his gesture from wherever he was hiding. 

“I think that this is probably our most ambitious job since 2009… and we all know how that turned out.”

“Yeah,” PJ agreed. “But Mickey wants that painting.”

Adam laughed. “And who am I to deny him? Logistically, the entrance is a no-go. See the cameras? 180 degree range, at least, and they’re on a timed circuit. I’d say they’re making the full sweep of the plaza in under 20 seconds. There’s no way I’d be able to get through the front door in that time span without being seen.”

“So the roof?” The hacker asked.

“The roof.”

“Christ, Adam.” PJ sighed. “Not very original. I mean, I’m just saying. I know it’s your favorite move or whatever, but you gotta spice it up occasionally.”

“It’s the only viable option.” Adam protested. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know man,” PJ said wryly. “Sometimes I think you’re just looking for an excuse to wear your fancy black leotard. Makes you feel pretty.”

Adam was sorely tempted to look up at where PJ was hiding and snark at him. “Hey, I really don’t think you have any right to-“

“Adam.” PJ interrupted, all humor gone from his voice. “Hold on.”

Adam shut up, trying not to tense up. “What is it?” He asked lowly.

“I thought I just saw… No…”

“What?”

“No way. NO WAY. Adam, get out of there right fucking now. Your two o clock! Holy shit!”  
…

Blake's heart stopped. There, in the center of the plaza wrapped in what had to be a ten thousand dollar suit, was Adam. His hair was slicked back in the style of the Europeans he was trying to blend in with. Blake was suddenly slammed with an intense longing for the messy sleep tousled hair that the man had sported back in LA. 

Blake walked closer, keeping his pace casual even though he was now shaking with adrenaline. The lunchtime crowds were ebbing and flowing around him, elegant people on their way to the sidewalk cafes that stood on the edges of the pavilion. 

Adam stood still amongst them, his gaze flitting around casually, but Blake knew better now. As he watched, he saw Adams focus stop repeatedly on the entrance to the Musee Monaco. He wished Adam weren’t wearing sunglasses... He wanted to see those bright hazel eyes. 

His wish was suddenly granted. Out of the blue Adam stiffened. His hand jerked to his ear while the other whipped off his shades. The thief turned and searched before making dead on eye contact with Blake. 

They stared at one another from across the crowd for a moment. Then Adam backed away and began running.

"ADAM!"

Blake's shout caught the attention of many bystanders but he didn’t care. The detective took off after him. 

Adam dodged through the crowds and down one of the narrower streets. The avenue was thick with people and kiosks, all obstacles that Blake dodged or jumped around. He couldn’t let Adam out of his sight.

The thief was nimble. He turned at sharp angles down side streets and Blake was quickly losing his breath as he chased Adam down two avenues towards the ocean, then back up an alley leading away again. Blake quickly realized that if he didn’t catch Adam, he would be hopelessly lost.

Huffing and puffing, he reached for his phone while trying to keep up his pace. “Deniaud!” He yelled into the speaker as he kept his eyes trained on the back of Adam’s suit jacket. “In pursuit! I need back up!”

“You have one?” Deniaud asked excitedly. “What is your location, Detective Shelton?”

“No idea!” Blake gasped. His hammering heart nearly sank when he saw Adam dive into an open doorway. He skidded to a stop and flung himself in after him. Shit. That was a lot of stairs. “Use… use my phone’s GPS! Track me!”

Blake hung up and began to climb, taking two or three steps at once. He could hear Adam’s quick steps just above him. He was so close.

Blake followed Adam, glancing up at the levels above him occasionally, until he heard a loud bang. He came upon a swinging door and was spit out onto a rooftop. 

Across the length of the roof, Adam was standing on the ledge. 

He was looking down off the side, his jacket fluttering in the breeze behind him. Even from here, he could see how the smaller man was trembling. 

Blake lurched to a stand still, utterly terrified.

“Adam,” Blake wheezed. “What’re you doing?”

Adam didn’t even turn around to look at him before he jumped. That alone hurt almost as much as the fear that slammed into him as he watched the thief disappear from view. 

“Adam?!” Blake rushed forward, leaning over the ledge. His relief was immediate, but so was his frustration as he saw Adam jaunting down the side of another building’s rooftop. Blake launched himself over after him and took up the chase again. 

“This… is so... fucking stupid!” Blake yelled breathlessly to the con man as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, following Adam closely. He was too old for this shit. 

Blake’s energy was suddenly renewed as he looked out ahead. The height of the buildings was steadily declining as they got closer and closer to the marina. They were running out of roof, and that would mean Adam would have nowhere to go.

He was proved right when Adam made one last jump and he heard a loud curse from below. Blake steadied himself and made the jump carefully, thanking God for his long legs as he was able to gain a little ground on Adam. 

He was closer than ever, could hear Adam’s labored breathing as he turned another corner. Blake felt a spark of triumph as he saw one of Adam’s dress shoes slip on the cobblestones. One mistake was enough. He had him. 

Blake lunged across the alley and his fingers snagged against Adam’s suit. Adam let out a sound of panic and tried to escape with a burst of speed, but he managed to hang on. The thief started to wriggle, but it was too late. 

“Gotchya!” Blake said breathlessly. He pulled hard and got a firm grip on Adam’s forearm. He swung him sideways and pressed him against the wall of the alley. 

“Ah!” Adam gasped at the impact. He stared up at Blake, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Blake!”

“You’re fast, Adam.” Blake said, his voice cutting like steel. “But I’m faster.”

“How… how did you even find me?” Adam is struggling, his body still tense. It rips at Blake’s heart to know that the man’s ready to flee the second he has an opening. 

“I’m resourceful, honey.” 

Blake is savagely pleased at the blush of shame that blooms over Adam’s face as he hears the endearment. “And I have a feeling that you haven’t been trying that hard to hide from me.”

“You’re wrong,” Adam says, defiant.

“No. I’m not.” Blake’s hold on Adam tightens. “You think you’re hard to read, baby, but I have your heart and that means you’re an open book.”

The words hit home. Blake can see that clearly from the look of blind-sided anguish on Adam’s face. He keeps pushing.

“You wanted me to find you. Maybe not now, maybe not right this moment. But, you knew I’d find you eventually… there’s no other way this can end.”

His ex lover stills then, and brings his hands to Blake’s face. He traces Blake’s features with his shaking fingers. Despite himself, Blake leans into the touch.  
Then suddenly Adam is leaning up on his tiptoes and connecting their mouths. The moment they make contact Adam sobs into the kiss. 

It’s heat and stubble and the taste of expensive cigarettes. It’s everything Blake remembers about his lover, all pulling at his heartstrings in the most unbearable way. He groans and deepens the kiss. 

The urge to release his grip and grab at Adam’s waist is there, but so is the memory of being left alone on that goddamn airport runway. 

He can’t give in. 

In the end logic prevails. He knows Adam is only kissing him to soften him up. Is he pathetic because he wants it anyway? With a groan the detective breaks away. “I have to take you in Adam.”

“W-what?” Adam licks his lips. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Blake, no! You can’t! I… I’m not-“

“Not what?” Blake asks harshly. “Not trying to distract me by kissing me? Not pulling a job? Not running away? Don’t lie to me.”

Blake has to force himself to lessen his grip, because he can see Adam wincing in pain. Christ, this was nothing he’d ever wanted. “At least tell me you’re not breaking another poor sap’s heart. How many others have you made fall in love with you, hmm?”

Adam looked as if he’d been slapped. “Blake-“

“How many other people have you screwed over, all for your fancy expensive art?”

“It’s who I am.” Adam hissed. “What do you want me to say, Blake? That I’m sorry I didn’t let you arrest me that day?”

The words leave Blake before he can stop them. They come not from his brain, but straight from his heart. “Did you ever consider that I wouldn’t have?”

Adam felt his blood run cold with shock. 

“What?”

“I spent that entire day thinking something terrible had happened to you.” Blake said roughly. “Then I come to find that something terrible had, and worse, that I’m the one who’d hurt you. I realized the second that plane door shut you’d been playing me the whole time. I didn’t even have time to be angry with you because then you were gone. All within ten seconds.”

Blake sounded as if he was in physical pain. “Sometimes I think I would’ve forgiven you. Sometimes I wonder if you’ve ever forgiven me. I guess we’ll never know, because you never gave us the chance to find out.” 

“Blake, I…” Adam couldn’t find the words, but he leaned into Blake’s chest. He could hear his heart beating fast, and the heat emanating from him. He was almost overwhelmed with his longing for another kiss. Adam nuzzled against his button up. He could hear Blake’s breath hitch again, even as he squeezed Adam more tightly. 

Sirens echoed down the alleyway. Blake glanced up in alarm and swore as shouting began to grow close. His grip loosened for only a moment, but Adam felt it. He took his chance. 

The thief wrenched free with all his might and began sprinting down the alleyway. The muscles in his arms were sore from being held so tightly for so long.

“ADAM!”

Adam didn’t look back. Tears sprung to his eyes, but he kept on running. 

…

 

Adam was so blind with fear that he ran back to the hotel like a madman. He tried to slow his roll a bit as he walked through the front doors and through the lobby to the elevators- the way he was getting some funny looks reminded him he needed to calm down. 

By the time he reached their floor, his heart rate had calmed a bit. When he shut the hotel door behind him it increased again as he was greeted with tense silence. The guys were all back from their respective outings and sitting around the room with anxious expressions. None of them looked happy, but at least they were all back safely.

“Thanks for the warning PJ.” Adam said tiredly, dropping his jacket near the door. “I didn’t even notice him until you said something. He would’ve snuck up on me for sure.”

“No problem, man.” PJ said. His tone was genuine, but there was discomfort in his voice. “That’s what I was watching for.”

There’s an awkward pause as Adam looks at his friends. Then he remembers. 

His ear piece. 

“Did you hear everything?” He asked PJ.

“Yes.” He replied immediately. “I told them what I heard, Adam. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t keep it to myself.”

Adam let out a mirthless laugh. “Of course you couldn’t”

“You kissed him, Adam?” James hissed. “You fucking kissed him?!”

“So what if I did?” Adam yelled. “Who cares!”

“I care!” James cried. “And so should you! This means we can’t go on with the job! Everything is compromised, including the safety of everyone in this room!”

“We should leave.” Matt said firmly. “We’re not making this mistake again.”

“What’s the point?” Adam scoffed. He threw himself down onto the couch between Mickey and Jesse. “He’s going to follow me wherever I go.”

“So we’ll keep moving.” James said confidently. 

“I think you guys should keep moving without me.” Adam confessed into his hands. “I’m clearly no longer good for the team.”

“That’s not true, Adam.” Jesse said, laying a hand on the thief’s shoulder. “We’ll fix this.”

“Blake’s never going to let go.” Adam blurted hysterically. “I think it’s pretty clear I’ll never be free of him, don’t you? So why don’t you all just pack up your things and leave me here?!”

James voice was deadly serious. “Is that what you really want? To be left behind like some abandoned… something? And just be waiting like a sitting duck for Blake to corner you?”

“If you were listening then you heard what he said!” Adam said angrily. “Maybe he wouldn’t have arrested us! Maybe things would’ve been different! Maybe…”

“Maybe what, Adam?” Jesse asked gently, holding up a hand to halt James’ words. 

Adam spoke in a soft whisper. “Maybe if it’s just me he finds, he’ll be happy to have me and won’t bother looking for the rest of you. Maybe it will be okay…” 

“You’ve officially lost it.” James interrupted. “You actually think he would let us go? Just because you fucked him doesn’t mean the world is a happy sunshine place full of rainbows and perfect endings, Adam!”

Adam flinched. Then he shook his head, speaking lowly. 

“I’m done.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I said I’m done with this. With all of this.” Adam stood up and collected his suit jacket. He started towards the door. “I’m too tired to keep doing this… I’m no good for it anymore…”

“What the hell are you saying?”

Adam grabbed the doorknob and pulled. “I’m leaving the crew. It’s the only way you’ll all be able to keep working. If I stay, we’ll all get caught.”

The door slammed loudly behind him. 

“Guys, I think he’s serious.” Mickey said nervously.

James shoved a hand through his hair roughly in frustration. “Motherfucker!”

They all ran to the door, chasing after their friend. 

…

An exhausted and sweaty Blake accompanied the officers who’d been sent as backup back to headquarters. The whole ride back, Blake felt dread over having to brief the Inspector about how he’d let Adam get away. 

He brought a hand to his lips, closing his eyes. In all honesty, he couldn’t be completely sure that it had been an accident. 

Staring into Adam’s eyes again after so long had brought him back to how he’d felt the day they met. Their brief exchange had ignited something within the detective, and suddenly Blake’s world of black and white had turned entirely gray. 

He was so conflicted and lost now, with his guilt over everything tearing him in every direction. He didn’t know what to do, and was trying to find a way to explain his actions. 

As it turned out, explanations wouldn’t be necessary. When the elevator doors opened up on the Interpol offices, Blake was confused to see Deniaud smiling in triumph instead of frowning in frustration at his incompetency. 

Deniaud’s good mood was quickly explained, but it only worsened Blake’s bad one.

“I think we have spotted him.” The agent dragged Blake over to the main computer monitor and pointed. The screen was frozen on one face, and instantly Blake could tell who it was. 

“That is Levine entering Hotel Hermitage, yes? While he fled from you he didn’t realize he was running into our trap!”

The Inspector was right. He’d know those sharp cheekbones and dark eyes anywhere. As he gazed on the image of Adam entering the Hermitage lobby, his frightened eyes glancing over his right shoulder, Blake felt only sickness. 

Suddenly he knew he’d made a terrible mistake. He wished he’d never put out that BOLO on Adam six weeks ago. He wished he’d never involved any other police force. The full implication of his actions was hitting him in the gut, just like Adam’s kiss had. 

By enlisting the help of Interpol, Blake had relinquished his control over the case. Now when they caught him (and they most assuredly would, since they’d found his hiding place) Blake wouldn’t have any control over what would be done to him. 

It wasn’t worth it. He could see that now. Risking Adam’s safety wasn’t worth the chance he’d taken to see him again. Blake was such a fool. His heartbreak had made him one, and now he was paying the price. 

“Congratulations, Detective!” Inspector Deniaud grasped Blake’s hand and shook it firmly. “A job well done. We couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Blake paled as he watched the Inspector give his orders and ready his men. They had Adam and his friends trapped like fish in a barrel, and now Blake felt nothing but fear because he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.   
…

Adam was embarrassed to admit it, but he’d dropped his guard. In his haste to leave behind his fight with his friends he had darted out of the elevator and rounded the corner into the hotel lobby without even looking up. However, the moment he crossed the shining marble floors and exited the building he knew something was wrong. 

The usual doorman was nowhere to be seen. The valet stand wasn’t being attended. 

Where was everyone?

Adam looked up and out across the rotunda, and his heart sank. On the other side of the front gardens, past the fountain on the high street, were police cars. Adam saw nothing but uniformed men, all who started pointing and shouting at him in various languages. Some were even holding weapons. 

To make matters worse, Adam was sure he saw a familiar silhouette out there amongst the officers.

“Shit!” Adam gasped. He fled back inside and he wanted to kick himself because how had he not noticed that the front desk employees looked pale as ghosts and were standing stiffly behind the counter?

They were watching Adam with wide eyes now, clearly aware he was the police’s target thanks to the commotion his presence had caused. The thief thought frantically as his eyes flitted around the room. Maybe the building wasn’t surrounded yet. He should run for the back exits out of here while he still had the chance. 

Adam was about to make a mad dash for the kitchens when he was brought up short. 

His friends! He had to warn them!

As if on cue, Adam heard the tell tale sound of the elevator ding behind him.

“You guys, don’t move!” Adam cried, scrambling to run back around the corner to the lift. He skidded to a stop in front of it and saw five pairs of wide eyes staring back at him.

“The police are here.”

Nobody moved for a second. Then James reached out and slammed his hand against the button to take them back upstairs. 

Adam threw his arm out to catch the closing door. “What are you doing?!”

“We have to get rid of our things! Matt’s weapons! PJ’s tech!”

“No, there’s no time! We have to leave right now, they’ve already seen me!” Adam pleaded.

The sound of a bullhorn rang through the lobby then, clear and loud as if there weren’t a wall of windows between the criminals and the cops outside. Adam winced at what that meant… the cops must’ve moved closer to the hotel. They were closing in. 

“MONSIEUOR LEVINE!” Heavily accented English stilled the movements of all six thieves. “YOU ARE UNDER ARREST! EXIT THE HOTEL WITH YOUR HANDS UP!”

Matt suddenly shoved all of them out of the elevator, ordering them in a deadly serious voice. “Get down, so they won’t see us.”

They obeyed, crawling to where the corner opened up to the lobby. Adam peeked around it, staring at the stairs across the room that led to the back exit. They may as well have been miles away. 

“There’s no way we can get across without being spotted.” James whispered. 

“Plus there are employees out there. If we move now, they’ll see your faces.” Adam said.

“Fuck.” 

“So… what do we do?” Jesse asked fearfully.

Adam couldn’t stop thinking about how pointless this was. He was putting his friends’ lives and freedom in danger, all to hide from Blake. And for what?

Adam swallowed around the fear in his throat, knowing in his heart of hearts that in spite of it all, he didn’t want to hide from Blake anymore. 

He stared at his friends faces full of panic and made his choice. 

“Jesse,” Adam said, drawing the man’s attention. “You got that boat today, right? It’s tethered in the marina?”

“Yeah,” Jesse said in a hushed voice, sounding bewildered. “It’s stocked and ready to go. Why?”

“I’m going out there.” Adam said. “You guys get to the boat and get the fuck out of here.”

“Adam, don’t,” James pleaded. “We’ll find a way out of this. We always find a way, somehow. I’m sorry. It was a bad fight, but it doesn’t mean you have to end it like this.”

Adam smiled sadly. “I think we both know it’s different this time. It’s been different since the moment he walked into Café Rose that day.”

Adam breathed deeply for a moment, then stood up from his crouch. The shouting outside increased- they undoubtedly could see him again through the windows.

“Adam!” Mickey hissed, staring up at his friend. “Are you suicidal?”

“No. I’m just making the decision I should’ve made back in LA, on that goddamn runway.” Adam stared down at his friends. “They haven’t seen any of you and they’ll be distracted when they’re grabbing me. They won’t be able to prove you were with me. Once I go outside, you’ll have time to move your asses out the back way, fast.”

“Don’t Adam!” Jesse flung out a hand, trying to grab onto Adam’s ankle, but the thief shook him off. 

“I’m so sorry.” He croaked. “For all the trouble I’ve put us through. You didn’t deserve it. Any of it.”

He tried to control his breathing as he walked around the furniture and headed for the door of the lobby. He could see the law enforcement all clustered out front through the glass. His heart beat frantically as he saw one figure towering over all the others. 

Adam pushed open the door, then threw his hands into the air. 

He wished they would stop shaking. 

Adam tried to make his voice heard over all the shouting.

“I’m unarmed! I surrender!”

He squeezed his eyes shut as officers descended upon him. Before he could even brace for the impact, he was thrown roughly to the ground.  
…

“That was quite the gesture back there.”

Adam said nothing. He willed himself not to cry.

“Sacrificing yourself for all your little friends. Do you think they’ll thank you for it? Do you think they’ll visit you in jail?”

The questions were cruel, but they were what was expected of him. After Adam’s arrest had been processed, Blake had volunteered to run the interrogation. Even though it was painful, it was the lesser of two evils. 

He’d seen who Deniaud was thinking of putting in the room with Adam, and decided he’d rather be the one to hound Adam for answers. He didn’t want to risk someone else taking it too far. Blake stared across the table at Adam. It was like talking around a razorblade stuck in his throat- that was the only way he could think to describe this moment. 

Blake had been ill with terror during the take down. He’d watched with helpless astonishment as Adam was cornered in the Hermitage lobby. It had taken every ounce of his willpower not to run forward and bodily protect Adam when the thief had given himself up. 

He was still in shock over the sight of Adam trembling with fear as he walked out into the open and into custody. If the man weren’t sitting in front of him right this moment, Blake would doubt that it had happened. Adam looked worn and thin and crumpled somehow, sitting there dejectedly in the interrogation room with his hands cuffed in front of him. 

Even after everything Adam had put him through, Blake wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in his arms and comfort him. Adam didn’t belong in this cold, depressing place. It was just so wrong, like watching a caged bird wither and lose its song.

His head was bowed, and his voice was rough when he spoke. “There was no one else… it’s been just me this whole time.”

“Come on, Adam.” Blake said softly. One of the detective’s hands twitched forward, but Blake made sure to get a handle on himself. “If you quit with these silly lies and give us a few names, I might be able to help you. I could make sure you’re treated right and given a good deal when we’re stateside.”

Adam’s laugh was broken sounding. “No thanks.”

Adam looked up then, and the suddenness of seeing those red-rimmed hazel eyes again made Blake’s breath catch in his throat. He wasn’t prepared for Adam’s soft, honest words that were almost too low for the recording equipment to catch. 

“You know, I imagined so many scenarios…I never thought it’d be like this.”

Blake quirked an eyebrow in confusion. 

“Us meeting again. Would you be angry? Would your eyes be filled with relief the way they’d been at LAX? Or would the last thing I ever saw be the mean side of a bullet from your gun?”

“Adam,” Blake rasped. “I’d never-“

“You have before.”

“I didn’t know it was you!”

“It’s okay, Blake.” Adam leaned forward, and the chains of the handcuffs clinked as he rested them on the tabletop. The earnestness flooding Adam’s tone in that moment was the first sign of true life Blake had seen in the man since he’d been tackled to the ground in the hotel parking lot. “I’ve never blamed you for that. Only myself. You had always told me you hated firing your gun… I’m sorry I forced your hand that night.”

Blake squeezed his eyes shut against the memories that flooded in, because yes, he remembered those nights too. He and Adam wrapped around one another on the sofa, and Adam’s soft fingers in his hair and his easy breath against his throat coaxing Blake’s worries, fears and dreams from him as only lovers are capable of doing. Coaxing his secrets from him, all so he could use them to his advantage.

“I’m sorry for everything, Blake.” Adam whispered, as if able to read the detectives mind. “Everything. If I could do it all again, things would be different. I’d make them be different.”

Blake swallowed. “You’d been using me. The whole time. How do I… Was everything we…” Blake cut himself off. He knew this was getting into dangerous territory. There were others listening in on this questioning. But…he’d been burning to ask for so long. Now that he had his chance to know the truth, he couldn’t tell if he was scared or relieved to have Adam’s answer. 

He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until Adam tentatively reached out for Blake. His eyes flickered over to the two-way glass, but he didn’t stop from taking Blake’s hand in one of his own, stroking his fingers lightly over Blake’s wrist in an achingly familiar way. Blake’s eyes zeroed in on their touching skin, mesmerized by the sight until Adam’s voice made him look up. 

“I loved you then, and I love you now.” Adam said. 

Blake stared. 

The door to the interrogation room was opened with a bang, and three very tense looking officers entered the room. One of them barked words in angry, rapid French and then the others moved quickly towards Adam. Blake cringed. 

“Wait,” The detective blurted. He tried to stand, but one of the officers laid a firm hand on his shoulder.

Though he was being jostled roughly into standing and leaving, Adam’s gaze into Blake’s eyes was steadfast. His voice was calm as he was dragged away. 

“I don’t care what they do to me. I don’t care what it’s done to us. I’ll always love you. I don’t regret a single second of it.”

…

“Is it true what INTERPOL is saying, Blake?” Carson asked urgently over the phone. 

“You and Levine had an affair? Do you have any idea how much credibility you’ve lost with them over this? How much you’ve lost with the Bureau? With me?”

Blake ran a hand through his hair and listened quietly to Carson’s rant. He was a big boy, he could take his beating down in silence. It should scare him that Carson’s words are washing over him without leaving so much as a speck of anxiety or fear about his job. But he wasn’t scared for himself. The only fear he felt was for Adam. 

“Quite a bit, I’m sure,” Blake grunted out. His lack of denial about an affair was damning, that much he could tell by Carson’s stunned silence. 

“They’re going to demote you Blake. Internal review is going to go after you like nothing else.”

“What can you tell me about the extradition deal being worked out?”

“You’re not defending yourself.”

“I’m not interested in watching my own back right now. I want to know what deal is being cut for Adam.”

“For Adam?” Carson sputtered, emphasizing the first name basis Blake was using. 

“Yes. Please.”

A pause. Then, Carson’s tone was more distant; a coolly professional intonation flavoring his words. “There is no deal for him. He’s a serial offender and he wouldn’t give up his accomplices. He’s got at least 20 years on his sentence, I’m sure. He’ll be lucky to get 10.”

Blake sucked in a sharp breath. 20 years… at their age that was practically a life sentence. He imagined his bright, beautiful, vibrant Adam being locked away for 20 years… wasting away in a cement box alone, losing all of himself to the inside… emerging an old man with nothing left in the world…

All because of him. 

Blake finds it’s rather hard to breathe all of a sudden. 

“No deal? He gave himself up! He isn’t even a violent offender!”

“Doesn’t matter here, Blake. Come on, you know this. It’s never bothered you before.”

Blake is tempted to slam the phone down onto the receiver, because Carson’s words are crueler than they have any right to be. 

But suddenly, a spark ignites in his chest. 

Deep in his heart, he knows exactly what he has to do, and it helps him calm down faster than anything. Everything is clear. 

“You’re right.” Blake agreed in an even tone. “I’ve run away with myself. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll do everything I can to fix this.”

Carson sounded a little suspicious and very weary. “…Okay, Blake. Keep your head down. I’ll see you soon.”

Blake makes sure to hang up the phone gently, then looks around the precinct. It’s relatively small for such a big city, but Monte Carlo didn’t have too much heavy crime after all. They had no need for excess resources. 

This would make Blake’s next actions a little bit easier. 

The detective casually left the correspondence counter and walked through the bullpen of desks, printers and copiers. He weaved through the hallways and down the three flights of stairs between the precincts main floor and the holding cells. 

Blake rapped on the glass of the admittance cubicle, and the bored looking surveillance officer glanced up from his book. He looked young. Probably a probationary agent of some kind, which explained why the second he heard Blake’s heavy country drawl and saw his badge he buzzed him through the locked doors without asking questions. 

Poor kid was probably going to get in trouble after all this… bet he didn’t even know that foreign law enforcement are supposed to be accompanied to holding by an officer with jurisdiction. 

Blake walked past the barred cells of several broken looking men, then stopped in front of the one that made his heart stutter in his chest. Adam looked like he’d been crying, what with his hunched shoulders and trembling frame. 

Blake banged on the bars and made Adam jump. “Hey.”

“H-hey.” Adam wiped his eyes quickly, not wanting Blake to see his puffy eyes. “Is it time to go home?”

Blake’s lip quirked up for a moment at Adam’s wording, but his amusement faded in the face of Adam’s tear stained cheeks. The thief’s face was tense and full of fear. 

“Something like that. Come on. Get up.”

Adam took one more deep breath then let Blake steer him out of his cell and back up the stairs. Blake tried not to pay much attention to the way Adam shivered under his hands. Instead, he focused on keeping his countenance confident. Half the work of pulling the wool over somebody’s eyes was being so self-assured that no one would think to question you. It was just one more thing he’d learned from Adam these past weeks. 

“How bad is it?” Adam asked. “Am I going away for life?”

“Be quiet.”

Adam shrunk underneath his hand, but stayed silent. His shaking got worse. 

Blake kept his eyes forward as he headed out the door of the precinct and began to walk quickly towards Deniaud’s car. 

Blake opened the passenger side door and pushed on Adam’s shoulder, practically shoving him inside. He did his best not to look over his shoulder like a fugitive as he hopped behind the steering wheel. 

They were four blocks away when Adam spoke again. “Where are we going?”

“The airport.”

Blake kept his eyes on the road, but he could feel Adam’s gaze for an unbearable minute or two. Then the thief became listless once more, leaning tiredly against the car door. 

The rest of the ride was quiet, but Blake’s heart was beating madly in his chest. He kept waiting for his phone to go off, for someone to notice the empty jail cell and make the connection, but it seemed luck was on his side for the moment. 

When they got to the airstrip, Blake left Adam in the car as he spoke with ground-control. Blake flashed his badge and requisitioned the jet they’d been planning to use for Adam’s extradition. He waved off the pilot on reserve. 

“I have my pilot’s license,” He said, glancing back at Adam in the car. “I’m flying him myself.”

The security detail with ground-control looked a little suspicious, but the coordinator waved him through. As Blake walked calmly back to the car and collected Adam from it, his phone started ringing and didn’t stop. 

Blake ushered Adam up the steps of the jet and then inside. He turned in the doorway and looked out at the city. He inhaled deeply, savoring the sea-breeze. It was probably going to be his last breath of fresh air as an honorable, upstanding citizen. The thought made him smile. 

The detective turned then, and his grin widened as he saw Adam staring at him from one of the cushy leather seats in confusion. Blake walked over, pulled a small key from his pocket, and unlocked Adam’s handcuffs. 

“That’s probably much better.” Blake murmured before laying a chaste kiss against Adam’s forehead. 

Adam stared down at his freed wrists in shock. 

“What’s going on?”

“I’m getting us out of here.”

“…Us?” Adam looked around the jet with fresh eyes. There wasn’t anyone else on the plane, which was probably unusual. A small flicker of hope sparked in his chest.

“Blake, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Adam’s heart jumped into his throat as Blake finished closing the cabin door and kneeled in front of him. Underneath his jittery exterior, Blake’s eyes were soft. He reached up and caressed Adam’s cheek. “I’d go anywhere for you, Adam. I think I’ve proved that pretty well. I couldn’t let them take you somewhere I can’t follow.”

“But, your work! Your career!” Adam cried over the shrill ringing of Blake’s phone. “Blake, you’ll be wanted too! I can’t let you just-“

Blake reached down into his pocket and took out his ringing mobile. With slow, methodical movements he opened the back, took out the SIM card, and broke it in half. 

Adam was left speechless. 

“You’re not ‘letting’ me do anything.” Blake’s voice was calm. “I know in my heart it’s what I should do. I want this. I want you.” Then, to Adam’s astonishment a flicker of insecurity passed over Blake’s face. His voice became shy. “That is, if you want me.”

Adam’s smile was almost too big for his face as he launched himself into Blake’s arms and kissed every bit of his cowboy that he could. “Blake, I love you.” He gasped between kisses. “I love you so much.”

Blake gently took hold of one of Adam’s wrists and smooched the skin there tenderly. “I love you too, darlin’. But we’re gonna have to save this for later, time’s wasting and we need to get in the air before anyone catches up to us. Where should we go?”

Adam got up and followed Blake to the cockpit eagerly, taking the seat next to him. 

“Bali. The guys will be in Bali.”

“That’s exotic.”

“It’s the next place on our list,” Adam explained as he gazed out the windows in front of them. “For if we ever get separated and we need to go underground. We’ll find them there, hiding out in some shack I’m sure.”

Adam laughed giddily, his happiness suddenly overwhelming. “They’re taking a boat, actually. We’ll probably beat them there!”

“Do you think they’ll be happy to see us?”

Adam smiled over at Blake, sensing the anxiety hidden in the question. “Don’t worry babe. You can always come home to family. That’s what you are now.”

Adam grinned at Blake’s sappy, love struck expression and strapped himself in. He watched with delirious pleasure as Blake steered the plane down the tarmac. They increased in speed until the air caught them and lifted them higher and higher. 

Monte Carlo grew impossibly small beneath them through the windows. 

He reached out and intertwined his fingers with Blake’s. 

After being ready to throw it all away, Adam’s whole life opened up before him once more.

It was something he hadn’t been sure he’d ever have a second chance at, but because he’d trusted love he was getting another shot. 

With Blake by his side, he felt filled with more strength and more love than ever before.


End file.
